'   i   !!'  ' 


on  FT  OF 
Miss   Sue  Dunbar 


THE 


REV.  ANTHONY  ATWOOD. 


"Give  attendance  to  reading." 

"  Study  to  show  thyself  approved." — ST.  PAUL. 

"  By  wisdom,  is  a  house  builded." — SOLOMON. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PUBLISHED  BY  CROLIUS  &  GLADDING, 

No.  341  Market  Street,  above  Ninth. 

FOR  THE    ATWOOD   LITERARY   INSTITUTE. 

1842. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year 
1842,  by  ANTHONY  AT  WOOD,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of 
the  District  Court  in  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvana. 


£/' 


/       f 


PRINTED   BY   KING   AND    BAIRD. 


TO 

YOUNG     MEN,     GENERALLY, 

AND    ESPECIALLY    TO    THE    MEMBER^ 
OF    THE 

ATWOOD   LITERARY   INSTITUTE, 

ASSOCIATED    TOGETHER 

FOR       MUTUAL       IMPROVEMENT, 
PREPARATORY    TO 


IS     THIS 


•Small  €0Km  0f 

HUMBLY  INSCRIBED, 
BY     THEIR     FRIEND, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


THE  circumstances  which  have  occasion- 
ed the  writing  of  this  work  are  simply 
these.  Two  years  since  the  Author  de- 
livered a  course  of  sermons,  on  Sabbath 
evenings,  to  the  young  people  of  his  con- 
gregation, in  which  an  effort  was  made  to 
point  out  the  course  which  all  young  per- 
sons should  pursue,  if  they  ever  hoped  to 
obtain  character  and  standing,  or  wished  to 
be  of  advantage  to  the  world.  Soon  after- 
ward, a  society  of  young  men  was  formed 
in  the  neighborhood,  calling  themselves  the 
"  Atwood  Literary  Institute."  The  first 
knowledge  the  Author  had  of  the  circum- 
stance was,  his  being  called  upon  to  sug- 
gest a  suitable  motto  for  the  society,  after 
it  had  been  formed,  and  its  constitution 
fixed. 

Subsequently  he  was  waited  on  by  a 
committee  of  the  society,  and  requested  to 


VI  FREFACE. 

deliver  a  sermon  to  young  men,  on  an 
evening  designated.  A  copy  of  which  was 
afterwards  requested  for  publication,  which 
was  for  various  reasons  declined.  Then 
was  introduced  the  subject  of  a  small  book 
for  the  special  benefit  of  young  persons, 
which  though  short,  should  embody  all  the 
most  important  matters  necessary  for  them 
to  know  and  keep  constantly  before  their 
minds. 

The  Author  was  not  unaware  of  the 
amount  of  labor  and  time  the  preparation 
of  such  a  work  would  require  when  he 
agreed  to  undertake  it,  or  the  slang  that  its 
publication  might  call  forth  from  the  idle 
or  envious.  Yet  encouraged  by  the  hope 
of  doing  some  good,  to  those  for  whom  he 
has  for  years,  felt  a  deep  and  abiding  in- 
terest, the  work  was  commenced  in  the  fear 
of  God  and  with  a  humble  reliance  upon 
his  blessing. 

It  is  not  pretended  of  course,  that  all  is 
said  upon  any  one  of  the  topics  introduced, 
that  might  have  been.  This  would  require 
a  larger  work,  the  price  of  which  would 


PREFACE.  Vll 

have  placed  it  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
very  class  for  whose  benefit  it  was  intended, 
and  thus  defeated  the  Author's  design.  Be- 
sides, it  would  have  required  more  time 
than  he  had  to  spare  from  other  and  press- 
ing engagements. 

Imperfections  will  doubtless  be  found 
both  in  thought  and  style,  by  many  who 
may  chance  to  peruse  it.  If,  however,  the 
object  of  the  writer  is  gained,  and  the  work 
is  useful  to  those  for  whose  improvement 
it  has  been  undertaken,  he  is  quite  careless 
of  other  consequences.  He  wishes  neither 
to  preach  nor  write  for  show.  Professing 
to  be  a  utilitarian  in  all  respects,  it  is 
hoped  that  no  other  feeling  has  influenced 
him  in  penning  a  solitary  sentence  herein 
found,  The  most  that  has  been  aimed  at, 
is  clearness  and  force.  No  book  written 
for  the  popular  good,  should  in  the  Author's 
deeming,  contain  a  sentence,  requiring  to  be 
read  twice  in  order  to  be  understood.  The 
meaning  should  stare  the  reader  in  the  face 
at  once,  or  it  will  not  be  long  remembered. 
Young  persons  of  but  little  leisure,  spe- 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

cially  require  such  a  style.  It  is  believed, 
this  has  not  been  lost  sight  of  from  first  to 
last. 

After  this  remark  the  Author  need  not 
say,  that  the  work  is  principally  intended 
for  the  working  classes,  on  this  point  it 
speaks  for  itself.  These,  if  any,  are  the 
neglected  ones.  Their  parents  are  too  apt 
to  neglect  their  intellectual  cultivation,  and 
themselves  are  prone  to  think  too  little  of 
their  own  powers  and  capacities.  As  a 
consequence,  they  fail  to  use  the  necessary 
efforts  to  develop  their  own  native  energies. 
Circumstances  in  their  view,  preclude  the 
possibility  of  their  ever  being  men  of  gene- 
ral intelligence,  or  rising  above  the  humble 
prospects  of  their  birth.  They  have  not 
time  to  read,  as  it  is  all  devoted  to  toil  and 
manual  labor.  And  they  are  so  beset  by 
other  difficulties  and  temptations,  as  to  be 
prone  to  yield  to  necessity  or  the  force  of 
circumstances,  and  therefore,  use  no  efforts 
to  rise  to  respectability  and  intelligence.  In 
these  pages  an  effort  is  made  with  such  to 
banish  discouragement,  inspire  with  hope, 


PREFACE.  IX 

and  lead  to  activity  and  diligence,  in  the 
improvement  of  every  fragment  of  time 
allotted  them,  in  faithful  application  to 
study.  The  Author  himself  would  have 
been  thankful  for  such  a  work,  during  his 
minority.  And  he  indulges  the  belief  that 
no  one  possessing  the  least  ambition,  can 
read  it  without  advantage. 

He  also  hopes  that  parents  and  guardians, 
will  feel  sufficient  interest  in  the  present 
and  future  well-being  of  those  committed 
to  their  care,  to  purchase  a  copy  for  each 
lad  in  their  families,  allow  him  make  it  his 
own  property,  and  faithfully  advise  him  to 
read  it.  Its  perusal  may  inspire  ambition 
where  there  is  none  existing,  and  create  an 
appetite  for  general  reading,  where  other- 
wise it  would  never  have  existed. 

Sabbath  School  Teachers  may  find  it  to 
their  advantage  to  read  this  small  volume. 
It  will  not  occupy  much  of  their  time.  And 
if  it  shall  induce  greater  reading  habits, 
and  provoke  a  worthy  emulation  in  doing 
good,  the  time  and  labor  thus  bestowed 
will  riot  be  lost.  From  the  ranks  of  Sabbath 


X  PREFACE. 

School  Teachers,  are  doubtless  to  arise 
many  useful  ministers  and  influential  mem- 
bers of  society.  They  should,  therefore, 
improve  the  present  in  faithful  preparation 
for  the  future.  Time  lost  now,  will  be  a 
serious  source  of  regret  at  a  not  very  dis- 
tant day. 

The  work  is  exclusively  the  property  of 
the  "Literary  Institute57  above  named. 
They  bear  the  expense  and  responsibility 
of  its  publication,  and  the  profits,  (if  any,) 
are  theirs,  to  aid  them  in  furnishing  them- 
selves with  a  useful  library.  The  Author 
has  been  at  the  trouble  of  writing  and 
passing  it  through  the  press,  solely  for  their 
benefit  and  that  of  young  men  generally 
who  may  take  the  pains  to  read  it. 

And  he  sends  it  into  the  world  accom- 
panied by  his  fervent  prayers  for  its  useful- 
ness. That  it  may  lead  some  at  least,  into 
"the  good  and  right  way,"  and  tend  to 
preserve  many  others  from  those  vices 
which  have  already  ruined  thousands. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

Philad.,  Dec.  17th,  1841. 


CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER  I.  13 

Responsibilities  of  the  young. — Interest  they 
awaken  in  society — Influence  they  will  have  in 
future — Obligation  to  parents— Apprenticeship  — 
Object  of  it. 

CHAPTER  II.  35 

On  intellectual  attainments. — Education  defined 
— Moral  education — Way  to  obtain  it — Discipline 
necessary — Discouragements — Too  late  to  begin — 
Edmund  Stone — Want  of  time — Economy  of  time 
— Want  of  taste— Taste  cultivated— W.  Scott's  let- 
ter to  son — Bad  memory — May  be  strengthened — 
Want  of  means — Inducements. 

CHAPTER  III.  84 

On  the  importance  of  character. — Study  useless 
without  it — The  man  without  a  shadow — Self-re- 
spect— Personal  appearance — Respect  for  others — 
Morality  and  Religion — Benefits  of  early  piety — 
Attention  to  Church — Benefit  of  a  firm  faith — En- 
ergy of  character — Dr.  Franklin,  &c. — Toil  useful 
—Honesty — Economy — Kindness  and  good  nature 
— Manliness  always  to  be  preserved. 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV.  -       125 

Dangers  common  to  youth. — Antagonist  influ- 
ences— Ambition — Habits  of  useless  intercourse — 
Gambling — The  road  to  ruin — An  example — Pro- 
fanity— Infidelity — Light  reading — Amusements — 
Theatres — Disobedience  to  parents — An  awful  ex- 
ample— Politics. 

CHAPTER  V.  -       177 

Duties    of  young    men. — Usefulness — Support 

Churches Sabbath     Schools — Temperance — Ee- 

sponsibilities. 


THE  YOUNG  MAN'S  WAY  TO  HONOR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

RELATIVE  IMPORTANCE    AND    RESPONSIBILI- 
TIES OF  THE  YOUNG. 

EVERY  one  should  duly  know  his  condi- 
tion and  feel  his  responsibilities,  at  every 
point  in  his  history,  if  he  wishes  at  the  close 
of  his  life  to  review  the  past  with  any  satis- 
faction. The  principal  part  of  the  misery 
and  regret  experienced  in  advanced  life,  if 
traced  to  its  source,  would  be  found  to  ori- 
ginate in  carelessness  and  early  personal 
neglect.  The  importance  of  youth  is  learn- 
ed by  observing  its  bearing  upon  after  life. 
And  this  observance,  with  the  course  to 
which  it  leads,  constitutes,  mainly,  if  not 
2 


14       RESPONSIBILITIES  OF  THE  YOUNG. 

entirely,  the  difference  between  men,  as  to 
honor  or  dishonor,  success  or  failure.  The 
lad  who  sees  in  himself  all  the  lineaments  of 
the  future  man,  though  now  in  miniature, 
and  wisely  commences  their  full  develop- 
ment in  early  life,  will  stand  among  Princes. 
On  the  contrary  he  who  lives  by  no  rule, 
carelessly  suffers  the  years  of  youth  to  pass 
away,  and  grows  up  as  "nature's  own 
child,"  without  meditating  his  important 
relation  to  the  world  in  which  he  lives,  will 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  be  a  useless  cum- 
berer  of  the  ground. 

I  would  have  the  young  reflect  on  the 
interest  they  awaken  in  society.  Almost 
every  movement,  either  great  or  small,  has 
them  for  its  object.  The  man  of  business, 
whose  energies,  both  of  body  and  mind,  are 
taxed  to  the  extent  of  their  bearing,  whose 
time  and  talents  are  continually  occupied  in 
the  pursuit  of  gain,  does  not  do  all  this 
barely  for  himself.  For  his  own  support 
and  comfort  he  has  enough  already,  and 
could  retire  and  take  his  rest  for  the  bal- 
ance of  his  days.  But  he  looks  to  his 


INTEREST  TAKEN  IN  YOUTH.      15 

children  with  an  eye  of  parental  fondness, 
and  wishes  to  provide  for  them.  The  mind 
of  the  philanthropist,  which  is  ever  intent 
on  the  lasting  good  of  community,  seeks  it 
not  so  much  in  efforts,  having  their  bearing 
on  those  of  mature  years,  or  advanced  age, 
as  on  the  young  and  growing.  He  well 
knows  that  the  former  will  soon  be  no 
more,  and  the  latter  must  occupy  their 
places  in  every  department  of  society.  For 
whose  benefit  are  schools  and  colleges 
erected,  and  maintained  at  such  a  vast  ex- 
pense of  time  and  treasure?  On  whose 
account  are  so  many  books  written  and 
published,  on  every  subject  within  the 
range  of  human  knowledge  and  research, 
simplifying  every  science,  and  opening  all 
the  mysteries  of  naiure  to  the  common  eye  ? 
For  what  are  Sabbath  Schools  maintained 
and  promoted  in  almost  every  church  in 
the  Christian  world  ?  The  object  of  the 
whole  is  the  improvement  of  the  youthful 
mind  and  heart,  and  through  them -the 
bettering  of  the  mental,  moral,  and  social 
condition  of  mankind. 


16        IGNORANT  OP  WHAT  WE  MAY  BE. 

And  is  all  this  a  light  matter  to  be  care- 
lessly heeded  and  little  appreciated  by  those 
for  whose  benefit  the  whole  exists  ?  Will 
they,  can  they  be  so  reckless  as  to  dash  the 
cup  of  blessings  from  their  lips,  and  disap- 
point the  cherished  expectations  of  those 
who  seek  their  best  interests  now  and 
throughout  their  being  ?  Whatever  may 
be  the  course  of  some,  I  am  persuaded  by 
present  indications,  that  the  great  majority 
of  young  men  who  receive  the  impulses  of 
this  enterprising  age,  and  the  educational 
advantages  which  it  affords,  will  be  pro- 
perly roused  to  activity  in  the  faithful  im- 
provement of  their  lofty  advantages.  The 
qualifications  necessary  to  meet  these  vast 
responsibilities,  are  riot  to  be  gained  by  a 
listless  course  of  inaction — nor  by  luxuriat- 
ing in  the  dreamy  paths  of  fashionable  ease 
and  idleness.  This  will  rust  out  the  better 
faculties  of  our  nature,  as  well  as  fix  ruin- 
ous habits,  to  destroy  which  the  regrets  of 
a  whole  life  will  be  wholly  unavailing. 

The  author  of  our  being  and  directer  of 
our  lives  has  wisely  concealed  from  us  fu- 


IGNORANT  OF  WHAT  WE  MAY    BE.        17 

ture  circumstances.  It  is  not  in  the  power 
of  man  to  tell  what  responsibilities  he  will 
have  to  bear,  or  what  offices  he  will  have  to 
fill  in  the  nation  or  church.  Could  this  be 
ascertained  at  an  early  period  of  life,  each 
one  would  naturally  pursue  the  studies 
which  would  confer  a  qualification,  for  that 
specific  employment,  and  shut  himself  out, 
more  or  less,  from  all  other  knowledge.  But 
as  the  tendency  of  this  would  be  to  cut 
society  up  into  various  professions,  and  by 
interposing  an  impassable  bar  between 
each,  would  disunite  and  estrange  the  mem- 
bers of  a  great  family  from  each  other, 
Divine  Providence  has  forbidden  it.  As  no 
man,  therefore,  can  foresee  what  will  be 
required  of  him  in  the  future  detail  of  life's 
affairs,  common  prudence  admonishes  all 
to  be  ready  for  almost  any  thing  that  can 
in  propriety  be  required  of  a  man.  I  once 
knew  a  lad  who  lived  in  the  country,  and 
attended  a  country  school  some  three 
months  in  each  year ;  where  the  principal 
branches  taught,  were  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic.  But  few  in  that  school  deemed 


18  A  PLACE  TOR  EVERY  ONE. 

it  necessary  to  go  further  than  this.  All 
other  learning  than  that  immediately  re- 
quired in  ordinary  country  business  was 
supposed  to  be  useless,  and  even  deleterious,  x 
as  it  fostered  human  pride.  The  lad  re- 
ferred to,  had  somewhere  seen  a  small 
geography,  and  became  desirous  to  have 
some  knowledge  of  it ;  but  his  friends  dis- 
couraged and  finally  prevented  him  from 
undertaking  it,  alledging  that  it  could  not 
possibly  do  him  any  good,  as  he  would 
never  be  placed  in  circumstances  where 
such  knowledge  would  be  required.  But 
how  were  they  mistaken,  for  in  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  wise  disposer  of  events, 
that  same  lad  became  a  minister  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  dying  man.  And  what  his  ^p- 
dents  'deemed  unnecessary,  and  therefore, 
not  only  neglected  to  teach  him,  but  refused 
to  let  him  learn,  he  had  to  acquire  at  a  great 
disadvantage  when  engaged  in  the  respon- 
sible and  active  duties  of  his  profession. 

Nor  is  this  a  solitary  case — scores  of  the 
same  character  might  be  adduced  was  it 
deemed  necessary  ;  but  it  is  not.  No  man 


A  PLACE  FOR  EVERY  ONE.  19 

can  tell  until  some  experience  has  furnished 
him  the  material  of  calculation,  what  part 
he  is  to  act,  or  what  place  he  is  naturally 
or  habitually  best  fitted  to  occupy.  The 
world  is  before  every  youth,  and  although 
all  offices  and  places  may  seem  occupied 
and  so  filled  up  that  no  place  is  left  for  him, 
yet  those  laws  are  always  at  work  which 
having  made  way  for  those  before,  will 
clear  a  place  for  him  also.  But  little  did 
Patrick  Henry  or  his  friends,  dream  of  the 
part  he  was  destined  to  occupy,  when  he 
was  lounging  about  some  stream  with  his 
angling  rod,  or  traversing  some  wood  with 
his  gun.  There  can  be  no  question,  but  that 
he  frequently  regretted  in  after  life  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  spent  his  boyhood  and 
youth.  He  was  a  great  man  it  is  true,  but 
his  greatness  was  that  of  the  mountain  tor- 
rent, rather  than  the  steady  fertilizing 
stream.  His  grasp  upon  a  subject  was 
strong  and  tremendous,  but  not  continuous. 
Had  he  accustomed  himself  to  hard  study, 
and  disciplined  his  mind  in  early  life,  he 
would  have  been  a  far  different  man,  and 


20  ALL  HAVE  INFLUENCE, 

most  probably,  much  more  useful  to  his 
country. 

Every  man  is  more  or  less  responsible  for 
the  doings  of  the  world.  Each  individual 
is  a  constituent  part  of  general  society,  and 
has  influence  somewhere  for  which  he  will 
have  to  account  either  in  this  life  or  the 
one  which  is  to  follow.  It  is  when  view- 
ing youth  in  this  light,  that  they  are  magni- 
fied into  the  greatest  importance.  They  no 
longer  appear  isolated  and  solitary,  but  are 
seen  rising  to  the  exertion  of  a  power  of 
most  fearful  consequence  to  themselves  and 
others. 

It  was  this  that  led  Mr.  Wesley  to  say — 
"  I  reverence  a  young  man  because  he  will 
live  and  act  when  I  am  dead."  This  is  the 
sentiment  of  every  real  philanthropist,  who 
instead  of  looking  barely  upon  himself — 
thinks  and  feels  for  his  race.  Young  men 
are  the  strength  and  hope  of  the  nation. 
Our  fathers  who  formed  our  laws,  and 
*  fashioned  those  institutions  of  which  we 
are  so  proud,  and  of  which  we  are  wont  to 
make  our  boast,  are  dead,  or  dying,  and  it 


ALL  HAVE  INFLUENCE.  21 

is  a  question  of  no  small  interest,  who  shall 
rise  up  to  take  their  places  of  honor  and 
trust  ?  The  rising  generation  must  do  it. 
But  will  they  be  qualified  to  stand  in  their 
places  and  discharge  their  duties  with  re- 
spectability and  honor — to  their  own,  and 
the  country's  advantage  ?  It  has  ever  been 
true,  <  that  when  the  wicked  rule,  the  people 
mourn.'  And  such  is  the  present  state  of 
politics  in  our  country,  that  the  unworthy 
and  vicious  are  most  apt  to  gain  the  ascend- 
ency. Having  no  fixed  moral  principles  to 
serve  as  a  restraint,  they  are  at  liberty  to 
descend  to  the  low  arts  of  trick  and  bribery, 
— loud  huzza's  and  street  broils,  to  effect 
their  purposes.  While  the  upright  citizen, 
guided  by  correct  principles,  and  taking  no 
step  but  what  is  strictly  honorable ;  is  fre- 
quently prevented  from  reaching  the  place 
for  which  he  is  well  qualified,  because  he 
will  not  meet  the  vulgar  on  their  own 
ground. 

It  was  a  remark  of  a  distinguished  man 
in  our  nation's  history,  that  "  in  a  govern- 
ment founded  on  the  public  will — where 


22  VIRTUOUS  PRINCIPLES. 

the  voice  of  the  people,  can  build  up  or  pull 
down  at  pleasure,  it  is  a  truth  of  plain  and 
fearful  import,  that  this  will  must  be  under 
the  regulation  and  control  of  sound  and 
enlightened  principles,  or  virtue  will  very 
soon  have  no  defence,  and  vice  no  check. 
In  no  age  of  the  world,  has  there  been 
greater  need  of  high  moral  and  intellectual 
culture.  What  else  shall  restrain  the  excess 
of  passion,  or  check  the  outbreakings  of 
misrule  and  licentiousness  ?  Vain  will  be 
the  majesty  of  our  laws,  and  unavailing 
their  sanctions,  if  religion  shall  be  despoiled 
of  its  authority,  and  conscience  lose  its  in- 
fluence. Let  these  foundations  be  destroyed, 
and  the  main  pillars  of  our  institutions,  must 
sink  together, in  one  general  ruin, and  history 
add  another  page  to  the  sad  record  of  de- 
parted republics." 

Thus  will  every  youth,  see  that  he  cannot 
live  to  himself,  confine  his  influence  at 
pleasure,  nor  shake  off  the  weight  of  re- 
sponsibility which  is  placed  upon  him  with- 
out his  consent  ?  Your  parents  to  whom 
you  are  indebted  for  your  being,  and  all  the 


OBLIGATION  TO  PARENTS.  23 

cares  which  early  childhood  required,  look 
to  you  for  some  return,  for  their  vast  ex- 
penditure of  time  and  toil,  in  your  behalf. 
A  life  of  virtue  and  manly  rectitude — re- 
flecting honor  and  credit  upon  them,  will 
be  the  only  reward  which  to  them  will  be 
satisfactory.  Obedience  and  filial  affection 
on  your  part,  is  indispensable  to  their  hap- 
piness and  to  yours.  Let  no  youth,  on 
arriving  at  majority — deem  himself  absolved 
from  the  necessity  of  further  obedience  to 
parents.  Though  he  is  permitted  to  act  for 
himself — to  appropriate  at  pleasure  the  pro- 
ceeds of  his  own  labor,  yet  is  he  not  free  of 
the  law  of  his  parents.  Nor  will  he  be  until 
they  are  laid  in  the  dust.  The  same  law 
that  required  them  to  bear  with  his  youth- 
ful follies,  and  watch  over  him  night  and 
day,  in  sickness  and  health,  now  binds  him 
to  reciprocate  their  acts  of  goodness,  and 
lend  the  supporting  hand  of  kindness,  to 
tottering  age.  Obedience  to  parents  is  the 
first  commandment  with  a  promise,  whilst 
disobedience  and  neglect,  is  visited  with 
Heaven's  severest  retributions.  It  is  seldom, 


24  MUCH  NOW  DONE  FOR  YOUTH. 

indeed,  that  the  disobedient  and  unkind  to 
parents,  live  out  their  full  time,  or  are  as 
successful  in  temporal  business  as  other 
men.  They  are  generally  unhappy  in  mar- 
riage, and  their  children  in  turn,  treat  them 
with  the  same  carelessness  and  disrespect. 
Thus  do  miseries  and  misfortunes  seem  to 
cleave  to  the  family,  as  by  an  entail,  like 
the  leprosy  of  Gehazi.  If  but  one  word  of 
advice  to  youth  were  allowed  me,  I  would 
say,  be  obedient  to  parents,  and  never  bring 
a  disgrace  on  those  who  best  love  you. 

Much  is  now  doing  for  the  youth  of  our 
own  country,  and  of  the  civilized  world. 
Lyceums  and  Literary  Societies,  abound 
every  where,  and  are  still  increasing,  in 
number  and  usefulness.  Time  and  money 
thus  lavishly  expended,  are  far  from  being 
wasted,  though  many  efforts  may  seem  to 
fail.  Much  seed  thrown  into  the  ground, 
is  destined  to  perish,  tyy  a  combination  of 
circumstances,  but  still  the  husbandman  is 
rewarded,  by  what  comes  to  maturity.  So 
that  no  one  should  give  place  to  discourage- 
ment in  view  of  the  ruined  about  him.  Too 


OBJECT  OF  IT.  25 

much  labor  cannot  be  bestowed  upon  the 
youthful  portion  of  community ;  too  much 
careful  supervision  on  the  part  of  parents 
and  guardians,  cannot  be  had. 

If  I  could  awaken  in  every  youthful 
bosom,  a  true  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his 
being,  the  magnitude  of  his  duties,  the  re- 
sponsibilities of  his  situation,  and  induce 
him  to  look  well  to  his  future  destinies,  as  a 
man  and  an  immortal  being,  my  purpose 
would  be  fully  realized.  What  each  one  is 
to  be  hereafter  throws  around  him  an  over- 
whelming interest  now.  It  is  principally  this, 
which  gives  such  an  importance  to  all  young 
persons.  The  design  of  these  pages,  is  to 
arouse  their  activity  if  it  slumbers,  to  call 
out  their  energies,  by  early  and  well  direct- 
ed exercises  ;  that  when  their  muscles,  and 
whole  physical  form  shall  be  fully  developed, 
they  may  be  intellectually  and  physically, 
men.  Men  qualified  for  any,  and  every 
station  in  life,  to  which  they  may  be  called 
by  the  voice  of  their  fellows,  or  the  provi- 
dence of  God. 

3 


£6  APPRENTICESHIP. 

APPRENTICESHIP. 

It  should  never  be  thought  a  disgrace  to 
be  an  apprentice.  If  it  be  called  bondage, 
it  is  an  honorable  bondage.  I  see  but  little 
difference  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  in 
this  particular.  All  have  to  pass  through 
a  course  of  preparation  for  after  life.  The 
more  affluent  send  their  sons  to  school  from 
early  youth,  to  the  first  stages  of  manhood. 
During  this  time,  they  are  virtually  appren- 
tices, subject  to  strict  rules,»which  they  dare 
not  transgress;  under  continual  fear  of  su- 
periors ;  tasked  during  the  whole  day,  and 
sometimes  for  a  good  part  of  the  night,  to 
the  utmost  stretch  of  their  abilities,  they 
have  but  little  time  they  can  call  their  own. 
Like  apprentices  to  a  mechanical  business, 
they  are  generally  away  from  home,  and 
the  indulgent  influences  of  parental  kind- 
ness 5  have  to  eat  at  a  common  table,  but 
.illy  supplied  with  luxuries,  and  barely  suf- 
ficient in  quantity  to  meet  and  satisfy  the 
calls  of  nature. 

The  difference  you  perceive  is  more  in 


HONORABLE.  27 

name  than  reality.  Nor  is  the  toil  of  the 
student  at  College,  a  whit  less  severe  and 
laborious  than  that  of  the  lad  apprenticed, 
to  learn  any  ordinary  mechanical  business. 
It  is  therefore  difficult  to  see  why  the  con- 
dition of  one  should  be  less  reputable  than 
the  other,  or  why  the  common  apprentice, 
should  be  esteemed  and  looked  upon  as 
an  inferior  to  the  College  student.  Both 
are  learning  a  business,  which  is  to  prepare 
them  for  after  life,  that  they  may  be  service- 
able to  themselves,  and  the  community  in 
which  they  are  to  live.  Nor  can  it  ordi- 
narily be  said  with  truth,  that  professional 
men  are  more  important  to  the  world,  than 
industrious  and  upright  workingmen. 

It  is  the  lot  of  every  man  to  work  his  way 
through  life  in  some  form,  for  this,  he  must 
seek  a  preparation  during  minority.  All 
men  come  into  the  world  alike  ignorant  of 
either  mechanics  or  science,  and  have  to  be 
taught  by^those  who  were  once  as  destitute 
as  themselves.  Can  that,  therefore,  be 
deemed  disreputable  which  is  the  common 
lot  of  all,  and  is  to  prepare  for  the  doings 


OBJECT  OF  APPRENTICESHIP. 

of  manhood,  and  the  acquisition  of  wealth 
and  comfort  ?  The  prejudice  gainst  labor 
is  as  unnatural  as  it  is  unphilosophical  and 
wicked.  It  has  injured  society  more  than 
all  the  revolutions  that  have  ever  occurred. 

In  becoming  an  apprentice  it  is  true  ;  a 
man  is  put  under  the  power  and  control 
of  another,  but  it  is  to  gain  power  for  him- 
self. It  is  a  brief  and  voluntary  surrender 
of  liberty  for  the  sake  of  future  gain,  and 
should  be  considered  as  purchasing  what 
another  has  to  sell,  at  a  given  price.  In  all 
such  transactions,  there  are  two  parties, 
both  having  rights,  which  each  is  bound  in 
all  fairness  and  honor  to  respect.  The 
master  is  obligated  to  teach,  instruct  and 
fulfil  all  his  promises,  and  the  apprentice  is 
equally  pledged  to  reverence  and  obey. 
There  is  however  in  some  instances  a  rest- 
lessness on  the  part  of  the  latter,  a  desire  of 
freedom  and  independence  before  the  alloted 
time,  wholly  inconsistent  with  either  his 
present  happiness,  or  future  well  being. 

The  indulgence  of  this  discontent  is  most 
disastrous  in  its  consequences.  It  shuts 


DISSATISFIED.  29 

out  all  desire  of  intellectual  improvement, 
renders  him  who  harbors  it,  constantly 
miserable,  sours  his  disposition,  prevents 
his  faithfulness,  and  in  some  cases  leads  him 
meanly  to  abscond.  Among  all  the  cases 
which  have  come  under  my  observation 
where  this  has  occurred,  I  have  not  been 
able  to  discover  one  that  has  eventuated 
well.  This  rash  step,  generally  taken  in 
haste,  is  often  followed  by  the  most  serious 
consequences,  and  I  believe  always  by  sin- 
cere, regret.  Such  in  general,  have  but  half 
learned  their  trade,  so  that  it  is  difficult  for 
them  to  find  employment  ;  are  thrown 
among  strangers  who  feel  little  or  no  inter- 
est in  their  welfare,  and  are  therefore  ex- 
posed to  misery  and  humiliation,  a  thousand 
times  worse  than  that  from  which  ]  they 
have  fled.  Add  to  these,  the  fear  of  pursuit 
and  detection,  the  constant  sense  of  shame, 
and  fearful  burden  of  conscious  disgrace, 
which  are  ever  haunting  the  mind,  and  you 
have  some  idea  of  the  wretchedness  of  him 
who  has  broken  his  obligation,  by  fleeing 
from  his  employer. 

3* 


30  GOOD  CONDUCT  REWARDED. 

I  cannot  too  strongly  guard  you  against 
such  a  course.  If  you  wish  to  sustain  cha- 
racter and  win  the  respect  of  those  about 
you,  now  and  hereafter,  you  will  conduct 
yourself  very  differently.  Strict  conscien- 
tious obedience  which  will  not  allow  you  to 
«•  answer  again,"  is  the  duty  of  all,  in  your 
circumstances.  The  way  to  honor,  is  hu- 
mility. He  who  humbleth  himself  now 
shall  be  hereafter  exalted.  The  master 
mechanic  who  now  has  the  direction  of 
several  hundred  hands,  was  once  in  your 
condition.  By  compelling  himself  content- 
edly to  submit  to  his  lot  then,  he  learned 
his  business,  obtained  the  good  will  of  his 
employer,  and  established  a  character  which 
has  served  as  a  passport  to  his  present  stand- 
ing and  influence. 

If  the  promptings  of  a  praise- worthy 
ambition  lead  you  to  hope  for  similar  emi- 
nence and  standing,  the  way  is  open  before 
you.  In  order  to  such  a  result  the  right 
course  must  be  taken  now.  Rise  early  and 
be  at  your  work,  spend  no  time  in  idleness 
and  careless  chat,  carry  about  you  an  open 


SEEK  EMPLOYERS  INTE  REST.  31 

and  frank  countenance,  and  treat  all  your 
fellow  apprentices  with  due  respect.  Be 
ever  seeking  the  interest  of  your  employer 
as  you  would  desire  others  to  do  by  your- 
self, if  placed  in  his  circumstances.  By  this 
course  you  will  gain  his  confidence  and 
secure  his  favor,  a  matter  of  vast  importance 
to  every  apprentice.  Nothing  so  effectually 
injures  and  blasts  the  earthly  prospects  of 
those  in  your  situation  as  to  be  called  "  eye 
servants."  This  you  are  to  avoid  by  deter- 
mined diligence,  and  the  most  resolute  faith- 
fulness. Your  work  should  be  done  as 
well  and  with  as  much  speed,  when  alone  ; 
as  when  under  the  eye  of  your  employer. 

Strict  truth  and  honesty,  in  small  matters 
as  well  as  large,  should  be  ever  maintained. 
The  reverse  of  this,  will  ruin  you  forever, 
however  industrious  you  may  be.  For 
every  falsehood  you  tell  now,  and  every 
penny's  worth,  directly  or  indirectly  ab- 
stracted from  your  employer,  you  will  have 
to  pay  a  fearful  interest,  in  the  future  details 
of  life. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  you  may  deem 


32  DISCIPLINE  GOOD. 

your  work  too  hard,  the  labor  too  severe, 
and  the  discipline  too  stern  and  rigid.  But 
of  this  you  are  at  present,  not  a  good  judge. 
It  may  be  for  your  good,  by  giving  you  a 
hardy  constitution,  preventing  evil  habits, 
and  teaching  you  the  way  to  success  in 
business  when  of  age.  At  any  rate,  you 
will  see  the  reason  for  this  hereafter,  and  it 
may  serve  a  valuable  purpose  in  the  future 
direction  of  your  life.  A  present  seeming 
evil  may  be  the  germ  of  lasting  good. 
Never  repine  under  your  circumstances, 
but  always  be  cheerful  and  kind.  In  the 
place  of  business,  in  the  family,  among  your 
associates,  always  be  ready  to  lend  such 
assistance  as  may  be  required,  and  thus 
win  upon  the  affections  of  all.  In  serving 
others,  ever  bear  it  in  mind,  that  you  are 
also  effectually  benefitting  yourself.  When 
you  come  of  age,  these  acts  of  goodness,  to- 
gether with  a  character  of  honesty,  veracity 
and  industry,  will  not  be  forgotten.  The 
employer  will  feel  that  he  cannot  spare  you 
from  his  business.  And  during  revulsions 
in  trade,  whilst  thousands  are  out  of  employ, 


KINDNESS.  33 

you  will  generally  find  work  enough  to 
keep  yon  busy.  And  when  you  desire  to 
start  business  on  your  own  account,  the 
character  which  has  been  established  by  the 
toil  of  years,  will  be  found  serviceable,  in 
raising  up  friends  to  assist,  and  stand  by 
you  in  the  hour  of  greatest  need. 

While  preparing  for  the  future  scenes  of 
active  life,  you  will  do  well  never  to  forget 
the  interest  the  world  has  in  you,  and  the 
important  claim  it  has  upon  you.  In  a  few 
years  you  will  be  free  of  those  restraints 
which  now  confine  your  influence  to  a  small 
circle.  The  knowledge  now  possessed  may 
serve  present  purposes,  but  as  you  will  soon 
have  much  more  to  do  with  mankind  than 
at  present,  you  should  be  constantly  enlarg- 
ing your  knowledge  of  men  and  things. 
Your  evenings  therefore  ought  not  to  be 
spent  in  trifling  amusements,  but  in  reading 
history,  attending  lectures,  or  in  some  way 
of  intellectual  or  moral  improvement.  This 
is  your  best,  and  perhaps  your  only  time. 
Improve  it  while  you  may,  or  you  will  cer- 
tainly have  many  seasons  of  unavailing 


34  KINDNESS. 

regret  hereafter.  Employ  every  leisure 
half  hour,  nor  carelessly  while  away  one  of 
them.  These  every  man  can  find  in  some 
part  of  the  day  or  night,  sufficient  if  duly 
regarded  and  rightly  spent  vastly  to  improve 
his  mind,  and  prepare  him  for  future  re- 
spectability and  usefulness. 


INTELLECTUAL  ATTAINMENTS.  35 


CHAPTER  II. 

ON    INTELLECTUAL    ATTAINMENTS. 

MAN  possesses  a  twofold  nature,  a  body 
and  a  mind,  a  physical  and  a  thinking 
power.  It  requires  both  to  constitute  man. 
Both  as  they  now  exist  require  education, 
to  be  able  to  serve  the  purposes  for  which 
they  were  originally  intended.  The  term 
education  is  said  to  be  derived  from  e  and 
duco,  to  lead  forth,  bring  out  and  develop, 
and  is,  therefore,  as  correctly  applied  to  the 
body  as  the  mind.  When  used  in  relation 
to  the  former,  it  implies  that  process  by 
which  the  faculties  of  the  physical  man  are 
trained  and  wrought  up  to  their  full  capa- 
cities and  capabilities.  When  used  in 
relation  to  the  latter,  it  comprehends  the 
full  development  of  the  intellectual  and 
moral  powers.  There  is  no  necessity  of 


36  EDUCATION. 

urging  the  importance  of  physical  culture, 
as  all  men  seem  agreed  upon  this.  Every 
father  is  desirous  his  son  should  learn  some 
branch  of  business,  some  art  or  trade,  by 
which  he  will  be  able  to  maintain  himself 
in  respectability.  For  this  purpose  he  is 
early  apprenticed,  and  sent  from  home  to 
serve  several  long  years  in  acquiring  the 
knowledge  of  some  handicraft.  No  man 
could  walk,  talk,  write  his  name,  or  per- 
form any  physical  operation,  seemingly  the 
most,  simple  and  easy,  had  he  not  received 
physical  education.  These  all  seem  to  be 
voluntary, and  easy  of  accomplishment  to  us 
now,  having  long  since  taught  our  muscles 
to  obey  the  dictates  of  the  will.  Had  no 
one  taken  pains  with  us  in  childhood,  and 
instructed  us  in  the  imitation  of  sound, 
we  should  this  day  have  been  mutes,  had 
we  survived  so  long.  So,  the  student  in 
any  science  has  to  submit  to  a  long  course 
of  practice  in  connexion  with  theory  in 
order  to  be  a  proficient.  The  lady  must  sit 
for  many  weary  hours  at  the  piano  before 
she  can  play  well,  however  versed  she  may 


EDUCATION.  37 

be  in  the  theory  and  principles  of  music. 
Skill  in  mechanics  of  all  kinds  furnishes 
illustration  of  the  same  fact. 

But  mental  and  intellectual  education  is 
that  upon  which  I  choose  more  especially 
to  dwell.  This  may  include  what  is  ordi- 
narily meant  by  it.  The  acquisition  of  one 
or  all  the  languages — one  or  all  the  sciences 
taught  in  modern  schools.  But  this  by  no 
means  exhausts  the  term,  as  it  is  certainly 
possible  to  have  all  these,  together  with  a 
fair  preparation  for  business,  and  yet  be 
grossly  deficient  in  good  intellectual  and 
moral  education.  The  education  frequently 
given  in  these  days  makes  a  man  a  fop — a 
silly  coxcomb — or  a  pretty  play  thing,  in- 
stead of  a  full  grown  gentleman.  It  may 
give  him  a  partial  knowledge  of  many 
matters,  proper  enough  for  him  to  know, 
but  ts,  too  apt  to  leave  him  lamentably 
ignorant  of  what  most  concerns  him.  We 
have  said  that  the  object  of  education 
is  to  bring  out  and  develop  the  entire 
powers  and  capacities  of  the  man.  It  is 
intended  to  give  depth  and  profundity  to 
4 


38  EDUCATION. 

the  understanding — strength  and  tenacity 
to  the  memory,  that  what  is  written  on  it 
may  remain,  to  be  called  up  for  service  in 
the  necessities  of  after  life.  It  must  con- 
trol the  passions — curb  and  subdue  animal 
nature,  so  as  to  give  ascendency  to  the 
rational  powers.  Man,  forgetful  that  he  is 
a  rational  being,  intended  to  be  controlled 
by  reason,  understanding, and  judgment,  by 
indulging  in  full  play  his  animal  passions, 
becomes  brutal  in  his  character  and  habits. 
Right  training  connected  with  suitable  in- 
struction, gives  him  a  view  of  his  own 
proper  character,  tells  him  he  is  a  man  in- 
stead of  a  brute,  and  therefore,  should  be 
controlled  and  governed  by  manly  princi- 
ples and  the  authority  of  reason. 

The  will  and  affections,  those  main  springs 
and  most  potent  sources  of  human  action, 
are  to  be  taught,  trained  and  subdued,  that 
they  may  serve  and  readily  obey  the  dicta- 
tion of  the  understanding  and  judgment,  not 
control  them.  The  passions,  which  in  all 
untutored  men,  possess  a  savage  wildness 
and  ferocity — education  is  intended  to  tame 


EDUCATION.  39 

and  socialize.  That  man,  whatever  be  his 
pretensions  to  learning  and  science,  who 
cannot  control  his  passions — but  suffers 
himself  to  get  heated  and  intoxicated  with 
rage,  at  every  untoward  and  unexpected 
incident,  or  trifling  opposition  from  his  fel- 
lows, is  not  a  well  educated  man.  He  may 
have  learned  to  master  the  most  difficult 
problems  in  mathematical  science,  and  the 
science  of  government — but  he  has  not 
learned  to  master  himself.  Be  it  known  and 
ever  remembered  that  "he  who  ruleth  his  own 
spirit  is  better  than  he  who  taketh  a  city !" 
All  the  disgraceful  broils  and  tumults  among 
men  in  high  or  low  life,  from  the  lofty  halls 
of  Congress  down  through  all  the  interme- 
diate grades  of  society  to  the  abhorred  fights 
in  a  dirty  grog-shop,  are  caused  either  by  a 
deficient,  or  a  total  want  of  education. 

It  is  education  also  that  furnishes  a  cor- 
rect taste,  (a  most  important  matter,)  chast- 
ens the  imagination  and  gives  ability  to  think 
long  and  closely  on  any  given  subject.  It 
commits  to  a  man  the  power  to  confine  his 


40  MORAL    EDUCATION. 

attention  as  he  chooses,  by  which  he  can 
gain  knowledge  to  an  indefinite  extent. 
Creation  is  before  him,  and  intellectual  edu- 
cation will  serve  as  the  box  of  instruments 
by  which  he  who  has  it  can  measure  its 
length,  breadth  and  depth, — he  can  weigh, 
dissect  and  analyze  at  pleasure. 

Moral  education  is  the  developement  and 
proper  discipline  of  the  moral  faculties,  than 
which  nothing  can  be  more  important  to 
men  circumstanced  as  we  are.  It  is  the 
implantation  of  moral  principles,  and  con- 
veying to  the  mind  that  instruction  which 
teaches  us  to  know  both  the  nature,  and 
how  to  discharge  the  various  duties  which 
we  owe  to  God  and  our  fellows.  It  defines 
the  difference  between  truth  and  error — 
virtue  and  vice — inspiring  us  with  a  love 
and  admiration  for  the  former,  and  a  hor- 
ror and  hatred  to  the  latter.  By  it  we  are 
taught,  that  as  we  are  immortal,  we  are 
therefore  accountable  beings — and  that  all 
our  words  and  works,  thoughts  and  indul- 
gencies,  are  reviewed  by  a  higher  power, 


MORAL    EDUCATION.  4l 

who  will  call  us  to  an  account  at  a  future 
period,  for  the  manner  in  which  we  have 
spent  our  time,  and  used  our  talents. 

But  I  will  cease  my  definitions,  and  at- 
tend to  what  is  of  far  more  importance  to 
all  young  persons — namely,  a  description  of 
the  way  in  wrhich  the  intellectual  and  moral 
powers  may  be  duly  developed.  It  is  one 
thing  to  show  what  is  to  be  done,  and  an- 
other to  point  out  the  best  and  most  ready 
way  of  doing  it.  Both  are  necessary,  but 
not  equally  so,  as  we  are  naturally  more  apt 
to  know  what  is  duty,  than  to  perform  it 
when  known.  The  necessity  of  mental  ac- 
quirement, must  be  apparent  to  every  think- 
ing man  at  an  early  age.  All  must  more  or 
less  clearly  see  the  distinction  it  invaria- 
bly makes  between  men  otherwise  similarly 
circumstanced.  This  itself,  one  might  sup- 
pose, would  be  a  sufficient  spur  to  urge 
every  young  man  forward  in  the  laborious 
work  of  intellectual  acquirement — since  it 
invariably  raises  those  who  submit  to  it,  to 
some  degree  of  eminence  and  consequent 


42  DISCIPLINE    OF     THE    MIND. 

usefulness,  and  the  neglect  of  it  never  fails 
to  be  attended  with  merited  disgrace. 

I  should  not  fail,  therefore,  to  admonish 
you  of  a  fact  with  which  you  are  doubtless 
more  or  less  acquainted,  that  the  intellectual 
faculties,  like  the  physical,  generally  remain 
stationary  or  dwindle  away  without  exer- 
cise, diligent,  persevering  and  active.  There 
is  no  other  known  way  in  which  the  mind 
can  gain  strength — become  capacious  and 
powerful.  Knowledge  must  be  gained  to 
serve  as  capital  on  which  to  do  business, 
but  knowledge  is  not  all  for  which  you  are 
to  labor.  The  discipline  and  habits  formed 
in  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  are  far  more  use- 
ful to  its  possessor,  than  the  mere  possession 
of  the  acquired  treasure.  Hence  the  differ- 
ence ever  to  be  observed  between  those  who 
have  property  left  them,  and  such  as  have 
gained  it  by  the  sturdy  efforts  of  personal 
industry.  You  are  to  seek  strength  of  mind 
by  useful  discipline  of  the  faculties  posses- 
sed, rather  than  any  fancied  amount  of  know- 
ledge. In  order  to  this,  it  is  essential  to  have 
some  rule  of  life — some  plan  of  study  and 


STUDY    BY    RULE.  43 

daily  application.  And  when  the  plan  is 
wisely  laid,  never  suffer  it  to  be  sacrificed, 
though  perseverance  in  it  should  cost  you 
much.  Though  it  cause  you  to  neglect  all 
the  light  works  in  creation,  and  the  flood  of 
pretty  annuals  lie  unread  on  your  right  and 
left.  Though  it  cut  you  loose  from  many 
previous  associations,  hitherto  held  dear  as 
your  very  existence,  and  on  which  you  once 
thought  your  happiness  mainly  depended. 
Breaking  off  from  a  course  of  study  wisely 
arranged  to  read  every  trifle  that  is  prettily 
done  up,  is  like  leaving  solid  and  wholesome 
food,  to  partake  of  hurtful  sweat-meats, 
which  enervate  rather  than  strengthen. 
The  greatest  men  sometimes  read  the  few- 
est books,  but  what  is  read  is  made  their 
own.  Not  committed  it  is  true — for  no  wise 
man  commits  much — but  analyzed — digest- 
ed, and  well  understood.  Like  Wm.  Penn, 
they  have  read  men  as  well  as  books,  and 
hence  their  readiness  in  grasping  and  com- 
prehending every  matter  that  comes  before 
them,  as  by  intuition. 


44  DISCOURAGEMENTS. 


DISCOURAGEMENTS. 

MANY  are  deterred  from  a  faithful  course 
of  intellectual  application,  because  they  have 
little  hope  of  success.  They  have  long 
since  conceded  the  point,  that  large  facili- 
ties and  abundant  opportunities  of  wealth 
and  leisure,  are  essential  to  a  good  educa- 
tion. And  because  they  have  unfortunately 
been  born  without  these,  and  providence 
has  to  them  dealt  out  bounties  with  a  penu- 
rious hand,  they  give  up  to  despair,  and 
foolishly  yield  to  what  seems  to  be  their 
fate.  A  little  reflection  will  convince  the 
thoughtful  that  their  discouragements  are 
premature  and  hasty.  Time  and  other  fa- 
cilities, it  is  true,  are  very  desirable,  but  far 
from  being  essential  to  either  usefulness  or 
greatness.  The  history  of  the  past— our 
principal  guide  in  such  matters,  fully  proves 
this.  It  has  often  been  said,  and  the  asser- 
tion is  fully  sustained  by  the  evidence  of 
literary  biography,  that  intellectual  great- 
ness is  most  commonly  found  at  first  in  ob- 


WEALTH  UNFAVORABLE  TO  GREATNESS.  45 

scurity  and  poverty.  In  what  are  called  by 
the  conventional  habits  of  society,  the  higher 
walks  of  life,  where  opulence  pampers  sen- 
suality and  flatters  vanity,  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  attain  intellectual  eminence. 
And  for  this  reason,  a  smooth  sea  never 
makes  a  skilful  sailor.  Poverty  and  obscu- 
rity being  dependent  upon  its  own  resources, 
must  remain  unhonored  or  rise  by  the  might 
of  its  own  energy.  A  quality  is  acquired  in 
such  circumstances,  which  ever  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  true  greatness,  viz. — a  sense 
of  self  dependance. 

I  believe  that  the  history  of  the  world 
will  prove,  that  to  be  engaged  in  active  em- 
ployment is  propitious  and  favorable  to  in- 
tellectual cultivation,  rather  than  injurious. 
And  perhaps  one  principal  reason  for  it  is — 
the  physical  frame  is  kept  in  a  healthy  state 
by  its  activity,  which  is  always  favorable  to 
mental  action,  and  intellectual  strength. 
And  it  is  a  well  known  fact,  that  the  mind 
accustomed  to  meet  and  overcome  difficul- 
ties, becomes  more  and  more  daring  and  in- 
trepid, and  more  willing  to  tax  its  powers 


46  SUCCESSFUL  APPLICATION. 

to  the  last  point  of  endurance.     There  is 
also  a  pride  in  human  nature,  which  delights 
in  excelling  those  who  are  accustomed  to 
deem  themselves  our  superiors.     Whatever 
may  be  the  reasons  for  it — certain   it  is,  if 
history  speaks  truth,  that  some  of  the  great- 
est men  the  world  has  known,  have  arisen 
from  very  inconspicuous  situations.     Epic- 
tetus  the  moralist,  was  born  a  slave,  yet  be- 
came the  pride  of  stoical  philosophers,  and 
the  friend  of  the  worthiest  Roman  Empe- 
rors.    Murray,  who  tho'  dead  now,  speaks 
and  instructs  in  our  schools,  was  a  shep- 
herd's boy.     Franklin  was  once  a  printer's 
apprentice,  yet  he  became  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  philosophers  and  statesmen  of 
his  age.     Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  though  the 
son  of  a  wood  carver,  became  the  first  and 
most  daring  chemist  of  his  time.     Columbus 
was  a  sailor,  and  by  his  enterprise  became 
a  vast  benefactor  of  the  world.     And  our 
own  Roger  Sherman,  whose  statesmanship 
was  so  well  appreciated  during  the  revolu- 
tion and   since,   was   a   shoemaker.     And 
time  would  fail,  as  well  as  the  patience  of 


TOO    OLD    TO    BEGIN.  47 

the  reader,  were  I  to  enumerate  all  who 
have  risen  from  the  common  walks  of  life 
to  greatness.  Herschel,  once  a  soldier  in 
Nova  Scotia,  who  has  fixed  his  name  among 
the  stars,  and  the  well  known  blacksmith  of 
New  England,  who,  though  steadily  pur- 
suing his  business,  has  well  nigh  mastered 
all  the  languages  of  this  *  babbling  earth.' 
Shakspeare,  Adam  Clarke,  and  Richard 
Watson,  whose  works  will  continue  to 
please  and  profit  mankind  as  long  as  litera- 
ture, science  and  virtue  shall  continue  to 
command  admiration — all  worked  their  way 
to  eminence  without  the  advantages  of 
wealth  and  leisure. 


TOO   OLD   TO   BEGIN, 

Discouragement  with  some  arises  from 
an  additional  circumstance.  They  con- 
ceive themselves  too  far  advanced  in  life 
ever  to  hope  for  success,  though  they  were 
now  to  make  the  attempt.  I  would  com- 


48  EDMUND    STONE. 

mend  such  to  the  noble  examples  of  Dr. 
Adam  Clarke,  Rev.  Samuel  Drew,  the  writer 
on  the  philosophy  of  mind,  whose  works  will 
ever  praise  him,  and  Dr.  Franklin,  all  of 
whom,  with  many  others  that  might  be 
named,  are  evidences  of  what  can  be  done 
after 'the  usual  time  of  completing  an  aca- 
demical course  is  past.  Edmund  Stone, 
also,  is  a  case  in  point  to  encourage  those 
who  begin  study  late.  At  eighteen  years 
of  age,  he  was  in  the  employ  of  the  Duke  of 
Argyle,  to  whom  his  father  was  gardener. 
The  Duke  one  day,  finding  a  copy  of  New- 
ton's Principia  on  the  grass  plat  in  the  gar- 
den, was  astonished  at  hearing  the  garden- 
er's son  claim  the  book.  He  immediately 
enquired  of  him,  "  Do  you  understand  geo- 
metry and  Latin  and  Newton?"  "  I  know  a 
little  of  them  said  the  young  man."  "  But 
how,  enquired  the  Duke,  did  you  gain  this 
knowledge?"  Stone  replied,  "  a  servant 
taught  me  ten  years  since  to  read.  Does 
any  one  need  more  than  the  twenty-four  let- 
ters in  order  to  learn  every  thing  else  that 
one  wishes  ?"  After  giving  the  Duke  an 


NEVER  TOO  LATE  TO  IMPROVE.    49 

account  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  ac- 
quired his  learning,  he  ended  by  saying, 
"  And  this,  my  lord,  is  what  I  have  done. 
It  seems  to  me  we  may  learn  every  thing, 
when  we  know  the  twenty-four  letters  of 
the  alphabet." 

Knowledge  is  not  only  a  source  of  gain, 
but  a  means  of  happiness.  And  if  it  has 
been  neglected  at  the  most  suitable  time  of 
life,  it  certainly  should  not  be  urged  as  a 
reason  for  its  neglect  during  life.  If  it  is 
calculated  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  life,  and 
confer  a  measure  of  comfort  not  attainable 
without  it,  surely  it  can  never  be  too  late  to 
undertake  it. 

There  is  a  great  error  prevailing,  which 
seems  to  have  become  a  common  senti- 
ment, that  education  beyond  bare  reading, 
writing,  and  some  knowledge  of  figures,  is 
useful  only  to  professional  men.  That  to 
farmers,  merchants,  and  mechanics,  it  is  al- 
together unnecessary.  And  as  the  course 
of  life  is  most  generally  fixed  by  the  time 
men  reach  majority,  it  is  deemed  needless 
to  pursue  any  branch  of  education,  except 
5 


50    NEVER  TOO  LATE  TO  IMPROVE. 

that  which  has  a  direct  bearing  upon  the 
business  we  intend  to  follow*  But  this  is 
reducing  the  value  of  knowledge  to  a  most 
pitiable  standard,  and  degrading  that  which 
is  intended  for  food  to  the  mind,  into  a  mere 
article  of  trade  and  merchandise.  Where- 
as, learning  derives  its  principal  importance 
from  other  and  far  loftier  considerations, 
viz. — from  its  enlarging  the  intellectual  ca- 
pacity, and  the  influence  it  has  directly  or 
remotely  upon  the  happiness  of  individuals 
and  communities  in  time  and  eternity.  If 
men  were  mere  animals,  then  their  chief 
wisdom  would  consist  in  simply  making  a 
living.  But  as  they  possess  a  lofty  nature, 
and  immeasurable  capacities,  it  is  not  good 
for  them  to  be  without  knowledge.  This 
remark  is  true  of  all  men,  in  every  employ- 
ment, I  care  not  how  menial.  Many  g.  rich 
gem  now  lies  hid  beneath  the  vast  ocean, 
which,  if  brought  up  and  polished,  would 
be  of  great  service  to  mankind.  And  there 
can  be  no  question  but  there  are  many 
minds  buried  and  hid  by  circumstances, 
which  if  properly  brought  out,  would  shine 


WANT    OF    TIME.  51 

astonishingly,  and  be  of  vast  service  to  the 
world.  Nor  has  any  man  a  right  to  say 
that  his  mind  is  not  of  that  cast,  until  he 
has  fully  tried  its  powers  and  tested  its  ca- 
pacities. 


WANT   OF   TIME. 

But  with  some,  still  another  difficulty  is 
urged  as  a  bar  to  compliance  with  what  is 
here  recommended.  The  pursuit  of  know- 
ledge requires  time,  and  it  is  deemed  im- 
possible for  the  mechanic,  who  toils  ten 
hours  or  more  in  the  day,  to  devote  much 
space  to  the  purposes  of  mental  cultivation. 
With  such  as  have  been  blessed  with  lei- 
sure, and  have  been  students  by  profession 
all  their  days,  this  difficulty  might  be  deem- 
ed insurmountable.  But  it  is  far  otherwise 
with  me.  Manual  labor  and  constant  em- 
ployment, I  believe,  is  favorable  to  intel- 
lectual cultivation,  instead  of  being  an  in- 
jury. It  teaches  to  value  time  and  not 


52  ECONOMY     OF    TIME. 

while  it  away  as  a  thing  of  nought.  The 
student  of  rare  leisure  spends  much  time  in 
learning  that  which  is  wholly  useless,  not  to 
say  injurious.  The  business  man  is  in  no 
danger  of  thus  misapplying  his  powers  or 
wasting  precious  time.  But  what  is  more, 
the  man  who  has  been  instructed  in  an  art, 
or  had  the  powers  of  his  mind  called  out 
and  developed  by  exercise  in  business,  is 
thus  fitted  with  quickness  of  apprehension, 
and  a  sagacious  shrewdness  which  mightily 
aid  in  the  acquisition  of  all  other  knowledge. 
If  you  wish  to  find  quickness  of  wit  and 
readiness  of  repartee,  you  must  go  among 
the  industrious  and  working  classes.  This 
activity  of  mind,  doubtless  arises  more  or 
less  from  habits  of  physical  activity,  and 
the  healthy  flow  of  blood  and  spirits,  which 
such  activity  never  fails  to  promote. 

Another  circumstance  favorable  to  the 
acquisition  of  useful  knowledge  among  the 
working  classes  is — they  have  learned  a  se- 
cret which  the  more  affluent  have  never 
been  taught — the  economy  of  time.  The 
man  accustomed  to  labor  or  active  business, 


ECONOMY    OF    TIME.  53 

rises  at  an  early  hour — takes  no  nap  at 
noon,  and  toils  on  until  his  day's  work  is 
finished.  Every  day  is  worth  a  certain 
sum  to  him,  and  he  as  much  thinks  of 
throwing  away  his  money  as  his  time. 
With  these  habits  let  him  direct  his  atten- 
tion to  his  book  and  he  is  sure  of  success. 
If  he  therefore  wisely  divide  his  time  and 
live  by  rule,  there  is  no  ground  for  fear  in 
his  case.  And  who  has  not  some  leisure 
hours  on  hand  every  day?  Whose  time  is 
so  accurately  divided  between  toil  and 
sleep,  as  to  allow  no  intermediate  space  for 
mental  improvement?  I  will  venture  to 
say  not  one  such  can  be  found.  All  that  is 
generally  needed  is  a  disposition  to  find 
time  for  such  purposes,  and  it  is  at  hand. 
There  are  spare  hours  in  every  man's  life — 
one  or  more  during  each  day,  which  if 
multiplied  by  the  days  of  the  year,  would 
amount  to  many  weeks  and  months.  All 
that  is  necessary  is  to  improve  these  with 
care,  and  no  man  need  be  a  novice  in  the 
knowledge  of  science,  history,  or  theology. 
He  who  cannot  command  days,  must  be 


54  ECONOMY    OF    TIME. 

content  with  hours,  and  in  default  of  these, 
he  must  prize  minutes.  A  few  only  in  the 
morning,  at  noon  and  in  the  evening,  duly 
improved  in  reading,  will  in  a  year,  take 
you  through  a  voluminous  history.  And  a 
few  years  thus  having  passed,  will  have 
placed  the  industrious  student  a  planetary 
distance  above  the  careless  and  idle. 

1  once  knew  a  case  where  a  number  of 
mechanics  working  in  the  same  shop, 
thirsting  for  knowledge  as  well  as  money, 
found  time  to  pass  through  several  large 
volumes  each  month.  Their  plan  was  this. 
At  a  certain  hour  of  the  day,  one  of  their 
number  read  a  certain  chapter,  or  num- 
ber of  pages,  whilst  the  others  all  silently 
progressed  with  their  work.  He  then 
gave  the  book  to  another,  resuming  his 
own  work,  and  all  again  listened  to  the 
reader.  So  the  book  passed  around  to  each 
one  in  the  company,  (some  eight  or  ten  in 
number,)  until  all  had  read  their  portion. 
The  book  was  then  laid  aside  until  the  fol- 
lowing day,  when  the  same  thing  occurred 
again  as  before.  By  their  reading  ten 


NO    TIME    TO    READ.  55 

pages  each,  one  hundred  was  read  per  day. 
How  long  would  it  take  such  a  company  to 
pass  through  the  history  of  every  nation 
that  has  ever  had  an  existence?  This 
course,  persevered  in  for  a  length  of  time, 
would  exhaust  a  large  library.  Yet  no  one 
ever  complained  of  the  loss  of  time.  All 
felt  it  to  be  a  pleasure  which  they  could  illy 
dispense  with.  And  who  does  not  see  the 
effect  of  such  a  course  upon  their  intellect- 
ual powers,  While  others  were  toiling  on, 
in  the  duties  of  their  profession,  ignorant 
of  every  thing  but  what  barely  appertained 
to  their  own  handicraft,  these  were  con- 
versing with  men  of  former  times,  and  ob- 
taining a  general  knowledge  of  the  world. 
"  Go  and  do  likewise,"  all  you  who  com- 
plain of  want  of  time  for  mental  improve- 
ment. 

Do  any  still  urge  the  fact  that  they  have 
not  time  to  read.  They  may  verily  believe 
it,  but  if  they  were  to  argue  until  they  were 
grey-headed,  they  would  not  convert  me  to 
their  notions.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to 
portray  such  so  clearly  that  they  would  be 


56  NO    TIME    TO    READ. 

every  where  known.  They  generally  have 
time  to  attend  all  public  gatherings  in  times 
of  political  excitement,  public  sales,  camp 
meetings  and  singing  schools,  but  they  have 
no  time  to  read.  They  can  frequently  find 
time  to  spend  whole  days  at  the  tippling  shop, 
seeing  the  races,  or  conversing  about  poli- 
tical affairs,  but  they  have  no  time  to  read. 
Such  persons  have  time  to  hunt,  to  fish,  to 
learn  music  and  play,  or  do  nothing,  but 
they  have  no  time  to  read. 

Unhappy  men,  they  are  generally  good 
for  nothing — neither  of  use  to  the  nation, 
to  their  families,  nor  themselves.  Their 
farms  are  out  of  order — shops  dirty  and 
uninviting,  and  their  fire-sides  are  uncom- 
fortable. Without  energy,  public  spirit,  or 
Jove  of  knowledge,  they  live  in  obscurity 
and  die  unwept  and  unregretted.  I  need 
not  show  how  little  befitting  an  immortal 
man  is  such  a  course,  it  is  too  apparent  to 
require  a  remark. 


WANT    OF  TASTE.  57 


WANT   OF   TASTE. 

But  you  answer  all  this  by  urging  another 
formidable  difficulty.  A  difficulty  which 
we  admit  to  be  a  most  serious  one,  you  say 
"  you  have  no  taste,  for  study,"  and  the 
hours  thus  spent  of  all  others,  are  the  most 
unpleasant  and  irksome.  Here  is  the  prin- 
cipal difficulty  after  all.  No  man  will  long 
practice  that  for  which  he  has  no  liking. 
Hard  work  in  the  nature  of  things,  is  not 
easy,  and  he  who  is  more  fond  of  company, 
a  public  meeting,  or  sitting  in  a  dirty  bar- 
room, smoking  a  cigar,  and  hearing  the 
idle  gossip  of  the  neighborhood,  than  perus- 
ing a  valuable  book,  will  most  likely,  soon 
sink  to  his  level,  whatever  be  his  talents, 
and  remain  there  during  life. 

But  men's  tastes  arise  from  habit,  and 
though  not  with  equal  ease ;  may  be  re- 
formed as  well  as  formed.  In  order  to 
eminence  in  any  business  or  profession,  the 
first  thing  to  be  acquired,  is  a  taste  for  it. 
And  it  is  astonishing,  how  soon  such  taste 


58  NOTHING  GAINED 

may  be  imbibed,  by  a  little  practice.  Let  a 
young  man  accustom  himself  to  any  course 
of  life,  for  a  month  or  two,  and  though  ever 
so  disgraceful  to  his  character,  and  offensive 
in  the  eyes  of  others — to  himself  it  will  be 
pleasant  and  inviting.  In  like  manner  let 
him  compel  his  attention  to  books,  during 
his  leisure  hours,  and  evenings,  for  a  season, 
and  soon,  what  was  an  irksome  and  un- 
pleasant task,  will  be  his  greatest  pleasure. 
No  longer  will  he  have  to  complain  of  want 
of  taste  for  literary  pursuits,  but  he  will 
perhaps  find  some  need  of  care,  lest  a 
fondness  for  it,  lead  him  to  suffer  too  great 
encroachment  upon  the  hours  of  business. 
This  bar  therefore,  although  a  real  one,  is 
quite  easily  taken  out  of  the  way.  And  is 
not  the  object  worthy  the  effort  necessary 
to  its  attainment?  Nothing  of  any  value 
is  gained  without  toil.  Nor  will  a  studious 
disposition,  essential  to  mental  cultivation, 
be  possessed  by  any,  unless  it  be  diligently 
acquired. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  thus  writes  to  his  son, 
"  I  cannot  too  strongly  impress  upon  your 


WITHOUT  LABOR.  59 

mind,  that  labor  is  the  condition  which  God 
has  imposed  on  us  in  every  station  of  life. 
There  is  nothing  worth  having  that  can  be 
had  without  it,  from  the  bread  which  the 
peasant  wins  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  to 
the  sports  by  which  the  rich  man  must  get 
rid  of  his  ennui.  The  only  difference  be- 
twixt them  is,  that  the  poor  man  labors  to 
get  a  dinner  to  his  appetite — the  rich  man, 
to  get  an  appetite  to  his  dinner.  As  for 
knowledge,  it  can  no  more  be  planted  in 
the  human  mind  without  labor,  than  a  field 
of  wheat  can  be  produced  without  the  pre- 
vious use  of  the  plough.  There  is  indeed 
this  difference,  that  chance  or  circumstances 
may  cause  it,  that  another  shall  reap  what 
the  former  sows ;  but  no  man  can  be  de- 
prived whether  by  accident  or  misfortune, 
of  the  fruits  of  his  own  studies ;  and  the 
liberal  and  extended  acquisition  of  know- 
ledge, which  he  makes,  are  all  for  his  own 
use.  Labor,  therefore,  my  dear  boy,  and 
improve  the  time.  In  youth,  our  steps  are 
light,  and  our  minds  are  ductile,  and  know- 
ledge is  easily  laid  up.  But,  if  we  neglect 
our  spring,  our  summers  will  be  useless  and 


60  TASTE  FOR  STUDY. 

contemptible,  our  harvest  will  be  chaff,  and 
the  winter  of  old  age  unrespected  and  deso- 
late.^ 

Again,  "  Read,  my  dear  Charles,  read, 
and  read  that  which  is  useful.  Man,  differs 
from  birds  and  beasts,  only  because  he  has 
the  means  of  availing  himself  of  the  know- 
ledge acquired  by  his  predecessors.  The 
swallow  builds  the  same  nest,  which  its 
father  and  mother  built,  and  the  sparrow 
does  not  improve  by  the  experience  of  its 
parents.  The  son  of  the  learned  pig,  if  it 
had  one,  would  be  a  mere  brute,  only  fit 
to  make  bacon  of.  It  is  not  so  with  the 
human  race.  Our  ancestors  lodged  in  caves 
and  wigwams,  where  we  construct  palaces 
for  the  rich  and  comfortable  dwellings  for 
the  poor;  and  why  is  this,  but  because  our 
eye  is  enabled  to  look  upon  the  past,  to  im- 
prove upon  our  ancestors  improvements, 
and  to  avoid  their  errors  ?  This  can  only 
be  done  by  studying  history,  and  comparing 
it  with  passing  events." 

There  is  a  natural  indolence  common  to 
our  nature,  which,  fond  of  listless  inaction 
will  ever  be  urging  us  to  lay  aside  what  is 


TASTE  FOR  STUDY.  61 

painful  and  laborious  and  seek  that  which 
is  amusing.  This  must  be  overcome  before 
any  man  will  be  a  student.  Having  this 
out  of  our  way  the  work  will  be  compara- 
tively easy,  study  will  be  a  pleasure,  and 
a  thirst  for  knowledge  being  the  master 
passion,  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  the 
way,  or  self  denial  required.  He  who  has 
cultivated  this  taste  and  succeeded  in  ac- 
quiring this  valuable  habit  is  on  the  high 
road  to  usefulness  and  respectability,  if  not 
to  greatness,  but  he  on  the  contrary,  who 
has  it  not  and  does  not  acquire  it,  will  have 
a  narrow  path  to  travel  through  life,  and 
will  leave  an  inglorious  memorial.  Upon 
his  tombstone  it  may  be  written  that  he 
was  born  on  one  day, and  died  upon  another, 
an  honor  which  the  lower  animals  can  share 
with  him.  A  man  with  fair  natural  en- 
dowments can  generally  make  himself  what 
he  chooses  to  be.  Many  complain  of  Provi- 
dence and  fortune,  for  having  dealt  out 
favours,  with  a  parsimonious  and  sparing 
hand,  when  the  fault  is  their  own.  Had 
they  been  as  diligent  and  active  in  the  pur- 
6 


62  DEFICIENT  IN  MEMORY. 

suit  of  knowledge,  as  they  have  of  distinc- 
tion in  feats  of  agility,  or  foolish  sports, 
during  early  life,  they  would  have  had  but 
little  to  complain  of  now. 


DEFICIENT   IN   MEMORY. 

Not  a  few  complain  also  of  a  very  treach- 
erous memory,  and  therefore,  deem  it  use- 
less for  them  ever  to  make  an  effort  to  gain 
knowledge.  This  is  the  old  complaint  reiter- 
ated, that  Providence  has  denied  some,  what 
he  has  so  abundantly  bestowed  upon  others, 
a  postulate  which  I  have  always  admitted 
with  great  caution.  There  is  no  question 
but  variety  as  relates  to  natural  endowments 
obtained  among  mankind.  This  conclusion 
cannot  well  be  avoided.  Yet  it  is  equally 
clear  that  in  most  cases,  the  difference  ob- 
served, can  be  traced  to  other  causes,  arising 
in  the  habits  of  life  and  modes  of  early 
training.  The  experience  of  every  teacher, 
has  no  doubt  convinced  him  that  the  lad 
who  had  never  been  accustomed  to  con  a 


BAD  MEMORY.  63 

lesson,  finds  it  difficult  at  his  first  essay,  to 
fix  one  upon  his  memory.  This  difficulty 
remains  for  some  time,  until,  other  and  pre- 
viously formed  habits  are  worn  off,  and  his 
mind  becomes  thoroughly  bent  to  his  new- 
employment.  His  memory  becomes  more 
and  more  tenacious  as  he  progresses ;  the 
more  it  is  taxed,  the  more  are  its  energies 
developed,  until  its  grasp  becomes  powerful 
and  astonishing,  and  he  who  at  first  was 
quite  incapable  of  retaining  the  shortest 
primary  lessons,  now  stores  away  in  his 
capacious  memory,  whole  sections,  pages, 
and  volumes.  So  that  it  is  evident  that 
previous  habits,  not  nature,  caused  the 
difference  between  him  and  his  fellow  at 
first.  He  who  reads  or  studies  but  little, 
generally  has  a  bad  memory — so  called, 
whilst  he  who  calls  its  powers  into  use,  and 
constant  exercise,  is  always  said  to  have  a 
good  one.  Confine  the  arm  to  a  vertical 
position,  and  keep  it  so  for  six  months,  or  a 
year ;  then  remove  the  bandage,  and  try  to 
raise  it  horizontally.  You  will  find  it  im- 
possible at  first,  but  after  a  time,  when  it 


64  LOCATE  TRANSACTIONS. 

has  had  sufficient  exercise  to  restore  strength, 
it  will  act  in  obedience  to  the  will. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  every  power 
we  possess.  And  will  any  one  do  such  injus- 
tice to  himself  as  to  quietly  presume  that  he 
has  not  so  good  natural  faculties  as  others, 
until  he  essays  their  developement  ?  Pride 
of  character  should  forbid  it.  No  man 
knows  what  he  can  do,  until  he  fairly  tries ; 
nor  should  any  one  condemn  himself  to  a 
life  of  stupid  ignorance,  pleading  want  of 
capacity,  without  having  fully  made  the 
effort  to  avoid  so  great  a  disgrace. 

Art  may  also  be  used  to  strengthen  recol- 
lection, and  make  memory  tenacious.  Not 
choosing  to  dwell  on  any  system  that  may 
have  been  devised,  in  order  to  aid  this 
faculty,  or  attribute  of  mind,  allow  me  barely 
to  suggest  a  plan  which  I  know  has  been 
serviceable  to  some.  Local  connexions  and 
circumstances  always  aid  in  recollecting  facts. 
When  you  desire  to  remember  a  name,  you 
connect  it  with  something  which  easily  and 
frequently  recurs  to  the  mind,  and  when  the 
latter  comes  up  by  accident  or  design,  the 


STRENGTHENING  MEMORY.  65 

former  generally  accompanies  it,  without  the 
least  effort.  Acting  on  this  principle,  he  who 
studies  history,  should  frequently  have  a 
map  before  him,  and  by  giving  the  histori- 
cal transaction  a  location,  all  that  will  be 
required  to  call  up  the  event,  will  be  to  let 
the  mind  revert  to  the  spot  where  it  occurred. 
The  student  will  thus  have  the  double  ad- 
vantage of  the  study  of  history  and  geogra- 
phy, at  one  and  the  same  time.  One  hour's 
study  of  history  on  this  plan,  will  be  found 
to  realize  more  permanent  advantage,  than 
whole  days  of  bare  reading.  In  fact,  the 
reading  of  ancient  history  without  it,  will  be 
found  almost  useless,  as  it  will  soon  be  for- 
gotten, or  facts  so  thrown  together  and 
condensed,  as  to  be  of  no  service  whatever. 
And  what  is  more,  historical  reading  having 
the  light  of  geography  thrown  around  it, 
becomes  doubly  interesting.  It  not  only 
spreads  before  the  mind,  the  deeds  of  former 
generations,  which,  it  is  vastly  important 
for  all  men  to  know,  but  also  furnishes  a 
view  of  their  varied  localities,  and  the  in- 
fluences which  gave  rise  to  their  actions. 
6* 


66  WANT  OF  MEMORY. 

This  by  the  way  is  one  of  the  best  modes 
of  studying  the  philosophy  of  mankind. 

The  same  principle  should  also  be  ob- 
served in  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
National  character,  place,  circumstances  of 
the  times,  and  purpose  of  the  writer,  well 
understood,  will  serve  to  cast  much  light 
upon  almost  every  portion  of  Scripture,  and 
vastly  strengthen  our  power  to  recollect  it.  If 
we  desire  to  remember  any  particular  pas- 
sage, its  location  on  the  page  should  be  mark- 
ed, whether  near  the  top  or  bottom,  in  which 
of  the  columns,  and  what  is  the  first  word. 
This  will  be  giving  it  a  location,  which  re- 
curring to  the  mind  at  first,  will  soon  intro- 
duce all  that  follows.  What  has  been  said 
of  history  and  Scripture  may  be  said  with 
equal  propriety  of  every  other  matter  of 
study.  He  who  would  have  a  strong 
memory,  must  act  upon  the  same  principle 
with  him  who  seeks  a  strong  and  healthy 
physical  frame,  viz :  give  it  exercise.  He 
must  call  its  powers  into  use,  and  tax  them 
to  their  full  ability  of  bearing,  using  all  the 
artificial  helps  with  which  he  is  acquainted. 


WANT  OF  MEANS.  67 

This  done  for  a  series  of  years,  or  even 
months,  will  so  develop  this  power,  that 
but  few  complaints  will  be  heard  of  the 
parsimony  of  nature's  bestowments.  I 
believe  the  worst  memories,  (so  called)  are 
always  found  with  those  who  read  and 
study  the  least.  So  fully  am  I  persuaded 
of  this,  that  when  ever  I  hear  complaint  of 
a  deficient  memory,  the  immediate  pre- 
sumption with  me  is,  that  he  who  makes  it, 
is  either  no  student  at  all,  or  else  a  grossly 
careless  one. 


WANT  OF   MEANS. 

To  the  above  difficulties  have  been  some- 
times added,  a  want  of  access  to  the  means 
of  information.  This  difficulty  was  once 
far  from  being  an  ideal  one.  Books  were 
few  and  costly,  and  the  sciences  were  lock- 
ed up  in  an  unknown  language,  or  so  loaded 
with  technicalities  as  to  put  them  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  labouring  classes ;  who 
generally  have  to  work  their  own  way 


68  WANT  OF  MEANS. 

without  teachers.  But  happily  this  bar  is 
now  taken  out  of  the  way.  The  world  is 
flooded  with  books  on  all  subjects,  interest- 
ing to  men,  books  in  our  own  language, 
and  rendered  accessible  by  their  cheapness, 
or  placed  in  public  libraries,  for  the  benefit 
of  all  classes.  I  need  not  dwell  upon  this 
difficulty.  It  is  so  frail  as  to  be  seen  to  be 
nothing  but  an  excuse  for  idleness.  The 
country  is  full  of  books — and  so  cheap  as 
to  come  within  the  reach  of  all.  The  money 
spent  on  the  various  holidays  in  the  year, 
if  expended  in  books,  would  soon  furnish 
every  apprentice  with  a  tolerable  library. 
And  lectures  are  given  during  the  long  even- 
ings of  every  year,  on  almost  every  subject 
within  the  range  of  human  science.  Some 
are  gratuitous  and  all  are  cheap.  He,  there- 
fore, who  pleads  want  of  means  for  intel- 
lectual improvement  in  these  days,  may  be 
given  up  as  a  hopeless  case,  on  whom  an 
argument  would  be  wasted.  Ignorance  was 
once  a  misfortune,  but  it  is  now  a  crime.  I 
speak  generally  of  course,  and  that  there 
are  exceptions,  by  no  means  militates 


NECESSITY  OP  KNOWLEDGE.  69 

against  the  force  of  the  remark.  The  en- 
terprising will  hear  me.  We  Jive  in  a 
stirring,  active  age  of  the  world.  All  na- 
tions are  thrown  together  as  into  one  com- 
munity, requiring  every  man  to  know  more 
in  order  to  success  in  business  now,  than  at 
a  prior  period.  The  man  who  once  did 
business  in  a  small  village,  though  he  has 
never  removed,  now  finds  himself  in  a  city, 
surrounded  by  a  dense  and  stirring  popula- 
tion ;  his  plans  of  operation  must  change 
to  meet  the  change  in  his  circumstances,  or 
he  will  find  the  younger  portion  of  the  com- 
munity taking  the  trade  all  out  of  his 
hands.  The  readiness  of  communication 
between  distant  locations,  causing  sudden 
fluctuations  in  the  price  of  commodities, 
requires  that  a  merchant  or  mechanic 
should  know  much  more  now,  as  to  the 
philosophy  of  trade,  than  was  needed  for- 
merly. Want  of  the  knowledge  of  this  fact 
has  led  to  many  a  disaster  in  business, 
which  a  little  foresight  would  have  pre- 
vented. But  let  the  eye  turn  to  another 
quarter. 


70  NECESSITY  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


INDUCEMENTS. 

In  a  government  like  ours,  where  the 
power  is  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  nothing 
is  more  dangerous  to  liberty  than  popular 
ignorance.  You  will  sometimes  be  called 
to  decide  important  questions,  involving  not 
only  the  wealth  and  happiness,  but  the 
very  existence  of  the  government  under 
which  you  live.  One  vote  may  cast  the 
die,  for  weal  or  wo,  and  be  the  means  of 
entailing  on  yourselves  and  your  children 
a  joyful  blessing  or  a  withering  curse. 
Every  man,  therefore,  should  be  conversant 
with  his  country's  history,  his  country's 
laws,  and  his  country's  constitution — who 
has  the  fearful  privilege  of  deciding  her 
fate.  Ah !  how  few  of  those  who  go  to 
cast  in  their  votes,  think  of  the  fearful 
responsibility  resting  on  them,  or  the  dread- 
ful consequences  that  may  follow.  Perhaps 
it  would  not  be  going  beyond  the  truth,  if  it 
were  asserted,  that  more  than  half  of  those 
now  attached  to  the  political  parties  which 


INDUCEMENTS.  71 

divide  our  nation,  cannot  give  a  reason  for 
their  preferences.  Some  are  partizans  be- 
cause of  prejudices  formed  against  certain 
men,  others  from  the  attachment  of  friend- 
ship; whilst  thousands  are  hoodwinked  and 
nose-led  by  the  designing  and  interested. 
Every  man  should  be  able  to  give  a  reason 
for  his  political  hopes  and  fears,  as  well  as 
his  religious  notions.  But  the  ignorant, 
who  never  read  or  think,  cannot  do  this. 
It  is  a  moral  impossibility,  it  certainly, 
therefore,  cannot  require  an  argument  to 
show  that  our  institutions  cannot  be  safe  in 
such  hands.  Many,  who  are  well  aware 
of  these  facts,  and  seeing  the  danger  of 
our  institutions,  pause  and  inquire  what  can 
be  done  ?  There  is  but  one  reply,  viz  : 
educate  the  rising  generation  in  what  they 
ought  to  know.  Let  them  be  trained  up 
to  reading,  reflection,  and  morality.  This 
done  and  there  need  be  no  fear  for  our 
country. 

To  this  inducement  may  be  added,  the 
great  satisfaction  to  be  derived  from  in- 
dustry in  literary  pursuits.  In  as  far  as  the 


72  s      THE  PLEASURE  OF  STUDY. 

mind,  being  immortal,  is  superior  to  the 
body,  so  far  are  mental  enjoyments  superior 
to  those  which  are  merely  sensual.  The 
one  is  low  arid  grovelling,  the  other  high 
and  inspiring.  The  one  frequently  leads  to 
shame  and  covers  the  face  with  blushes,  the 
other  is  always  honorable  and  without  fear 
of  reproach.  Is  there  no  pleasure  in  read- 
ing history,  and  thus  conversing  with 
former  generations?  Does  not  the  study 
of  nature  thrill  the  soul  with  unspeakable 
delight,  as  her  chambers  open  their  ample 
wonders  to  our  inquiring  eyes?  Study 
opens  a  vast  field  over  which  reflection  and 
fancy  can  roam  and  luxuriate  without  fear 
of  satiety.  All  sensual  pleasures,  weary  and 
cloy  the  appetite,  but  those  which  spring 
from  intellectual  cultivation,  never  cease  to 
delight.  It  is  said  that  Dr.  Franklin  once 
remarked,  that  "  he  knew  not  a  more  un- 
happy man  than  the  one  who  could  not 
read,  and  had  nothing  to  do  on  a  rainy 
day."  This  remark  is  characteristic  of  the 
man  who  is  said  to  have  made  it,  but  is  as 
true  to  life  as  it  is  eccentric.  In  fact,  I  am 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  NATURE.  73 

at  a  loss  to  know  how  a  man  in  such  cir- 
cumstances could  enjoy  himself  at  all,  un- 
less like  many  other  careless  animals,  he 
spent  the  time  in  slumber,  or  like  the  Chi- 
nese, in  eating  opium. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  bible  makes  all 
nature  vocal,  when  it  would  otherwise  be 
silent,  and  its  various  laws  either  not  known 
at  all,  or  be  wholly  misunderstood.  A 
similar  remark  may  be  made  in  relation  to 
the  action  of  science  on  the  material  world. 
Every  thing  is  unquestionably  created  with 
a  wise  design,  and  intended  to  serve  some 
useful  purpose.  But  the  ignorant  can  never 
find  out  their  uses  and  various  adaptations. 
The  only  effect  lightning  and  thunder  has 
upon  the  unlettered  savage,  is  fright  and 
dismay.  But  how  very  differently  these 
agents  of  nature  act  upon  the  better  in- 
structed. They  are  received  with  gratitude 
as  means  of  purifying  the  atmosphere,  and 
therefore,  conducing  to  the  health  and  hap- 
piness of  mankind.  The  ignorant  man 
looks  over  the  face  of  nature,  studded  with 
forests  and  garnished  with  flowers,  with  a 
7 


74  YIELDS  DELIGHT. 

vacant  and  unmeaning  stare.  He  sees  no 
beauty,  and  feels  no  thrilling  inspiration, 
because  to  him  it  is  perfectly  incomprehen- 
sible. But  the  man  of  science  stands  a 
charmed  spectator  of  nature's  beauty  and 
profusion,  as  he  more  or  less  sees  the  design 
and  uses  of  what  is  before  him.  All  classes 
would  be  much  more  happy  in  their  various 
employments,  were  they  to  mingle  more 
science  with  labor,  as  they  would  better 
understand  their  own  business,  and  there- 
fore, have  less  fear  of  failures  and  unfore- 
seen calamities. 

Knowledge  moreover,  gives  influence,  in 
all  states  of  society.  And  popularity, 
whether  really  advantageous  or  not,  with 
all  men  is  more  or  less  desirable.  All  are 
climbing  to  it  by  some  one  of  the  various 
ways  in  which  it  is  deemed  accessible. 
This  seems  to  be  perfectly  natural,  nor  is  it 
to  be  altogether  condemned.  There  is  a 
real  satisfaction  to  be  found  in  the  exertion 
of  influence  over  our  fellows,  in  being 
treated  with  respect  and  looked  up  to  for 
counsel.  Such  a  position  is  most  command- 


GIVES  INFLUENCE.  75 

ing,  and  may  be  turned  to  good  advantage. 
That  young  man  who  can  see  in  such  a 
situation  nothing  that  is  desirable,  who 
finding  himself  ignorant  and  without  influ- 
ence, is  willing  there  to  remain,  not  making 
the  least  effort  to  gain  a  worthy  standing, 
is  already  lost  to  society.  He  has  no  ambi- 
tion, and  no  prospect  is  before  him,  but  that 
of  being  a  hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of 
water  to  the  more  enterprising,  all  the  days 
of  his  life. 

But  there  is  another  motive  yet,  which 
perhaps  may  be  more  influential  than  any 
of  the  former.  Every  man  is  desirous  of 
possessing  mental  energy  and  intellectual 
strength.  We  may  safely  inform  him,  that 
it  is  not  likely  he  will  ever  possess  this 
without  much  reading  and  close  thinking. 
His  mind  may  be  naturally  good,  but  it 
needs  something  to  give  it  a  start  and  fur- 
nish capital  on  which  to  act.  There  must 
be  something  to  excite.  What  shall  it  be  ? 
Experiment  the  matter  by  taking  up  a 
book  and  reading  the  speech  of  some  great 
man,  on  some  question  of  thrilling  interest. 


76  INFLUENCE  DESIRABLE. 

Pll  vouch  for  it,  that  you  will  not  half  finish 
it  before  your  mind  will  be  in  the  highest 
state  of  excitement.  And  were  you  then 
to  take  a  pen  and  attempt  composition, 
ideas  would  be  in  readiness  and  words 
would  flow  in  an  overwhelming  torrent. 
Let  it  be  your  habit  to  occupy  every  spare 
moment  in  perusing  some  useful  work,  and 
this  activity  of  mind  will  also  become 
habitual,  nor  will  it  ever  forsake  you 
whilst,  it  has  any  thing  to  act  upon.  Mind 
acts  upon  mind  as  matter  upon  matter.  Nor 
is  it  possible  to  converse  by  books  with 
the  mighty  intellects  of  a  former,  or  even 
the  present  generation,  without  catching  the 
spirit  of  their  inspiration.  Reading  their 
works  provokes  to  emulation,  and  makes 
us  desire  to  be  like  them.  Read  until  you 
get  the  spirit  of  reading,  until  a  taste  is 
contracted,  the  gratification  of  which  will 
be  more  pleasurable  than  eating  when  you 
are  hungry,  or  drinking  when  you  are  dry. 
Thus  will  the  mind  be  brought  into  appro- 
priate and  healthy  activity  upon  all  subjects, 
which  challenge  the  exercise  of  its  powers, 


READING.  77 

until  it  becomes  accustomed  to  the  loftiest 
efforts  of  which  its  energies  are  capable. 

I  am  sorry  for  him  who  feels  no  pleasure 
in  reading.  He  dwells  in  a  region  of  gloom 
and  misanthropy,  and  if  he  is  resolved  not 
to  use  the  means  which  invariably  exalt  the 
spirits  to  a  healthy  and  pleasurable  flow,  1 
hope  he  may  be  suffered  to  remain  alone, 
not  being  able  to  find  one  to  covet  his 
miserable  and  inglorious  situation.  What 
you  read,  be  careful  to  read  well  and 
thoroughly;  anything  worth  reading  at  all, 
is  worth  reading  well.  Make  every  book 
through  which  you  pass,  fully  your  own. 
Get  the  run  of  the  whole  story,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  rehearse  it  to  a  friend  in  your  own 
language.  The  more  you  talk  of  what  you 
read,  the  better  you  will  recollect  it.  By 
persevering  in  this  course  for  a  season,  your 
mind  will  become  rich  as  a  storehouse,  and 
capacious  enough  to  be  continually  receiv- 
ing more. 

It  may  be  proper,  however,  in  this  con- 
nexion,  to  caution  you  as  to  the  books  you 
read.  I  am  not  about  to  propose  a  plan  of 


78  READING  FORMS  STYLE. 

study — the  intended  size  of  this  work  will 
not  allow  me  to  do  so.  Nor  do  I  now 
speak  of  the  moral  character  of  books.  It 
is  desirable  to  form  a  good  style,  that  you 
may  speak  and  write  with  ease  and  grace. 
This  no  one  will,  or  can  do  unless  the 
works  which  he  reads  are  written  thus. 
Streams  always  tasteof  the  minerals  through 
which  they  pass — and  man's  character  gene- 
rally becomes  assimilated  to  that  of  his 
every-day  companions.  So  is  our  style 
formed  by  the  models  which  are  most  con- 
stantly before  us.  Read  Mr.  Wesley's 
works  until  attachments  are  formed  for  the 
man  and  his  mode  of  thinking  and  commu- 
nication, and  you  will  write  and  speak  in  a 
similar  way.  It  would  be  the  same  were 
you  to  read  any  other  author. 

How  important  then  that  you  should  read 
much  to  form  a  style,  and  that  the  works 
read  should  be  clear  and  perspicuous.  Our 
tastes  undergo  a%reat  change  after  we  are 
twenty-five  years  of  age.  Anterior  to  that 
we  are  usually  fond  of  what  is  glowing  and 
gaudy  in  style,  whether  the  sentiment  is 
strongly  developed  or  not.  But  every  sub- 


EARLY    RISING.  79 

sequent  year  changes  the  taste,  and  sense  is 
more  admired  than  sound.  No  book  is 
worth  reading  unless  the  meaning  stares 
you  in  the  face.  To  be  clear  in  conversa- 
tion, in  thinking,  and  in  writing,  is  what  a 
young  man  should  aim  at  first.  If  he  be  a 
student  ornament  will  come  quite  soon 
enough.  Todd's  Students'  Manual  is  a 
capital  thing  for  every  young  man,  and  I 
here  commend  it  to  their  attention.  No 
sentence  that  I  have  seen  in  it  requires  to  be 
studied  to  be  understood.  You  should  be 
careful  then  to  guard  against  a  bad  and 
confused  style,  by  reading  such  books  only 
as  are  clear  and  chaste. 

Early  rising  is  essential  to  successful 
study.  No  man  will  love  his  book  much, 
unless  he  form  the  habit  of  being  at  it  early 
in  the  morning.  The  practice  of  some  is, 
to  do  all  their  reading  at  night,  after  work- 
ing hours.  Mistaken  men.  Such  an  illy 
judged  course  will  be  short-lived.  The  eyes, 
the  head,  the  whole  frame  will  soon  feel 
the  sad  effects  of  such  unphilosophical  pro- 
cedure. Headache  and  want  of  appetite 


80  READING    AND    CONVERSATION, 

for  food,  will  be  the  first  natural  intimations 
of  error.  And  the  unwise  youth  will  soon 
begin  to  think  his  studies  are  injuring  his 
health,  and  lay  them  aside  altogether.  If 
this  do  not  occur,  he  will  complain  of  defi- 
cient memory — as  it  is  well-known  that  the 
cnind  is  more  vigorous  and  capable  of  re- 
tention in  the  early,  than  in  the  latter  por- 
tions of  the  day.  All  great  acquisitions  of 
knowledge  or  fortune,  have  been  made  by 
men  who  were  accustomed  to  early  rising. 
Nor  need  any  youth  dream  of  either,  who 
cannot  deny  himself  an  hour  of  morning 
slumber  to  gain  them, 

Be  sure  to  be  a  good  reader  whatever 
else  you  lack.  In  that  which  we  are  most 
frequently  called  on  to  do  we  should  be 
greatest  proficients.  Make  reading  a  daily 
study,  so  that  if  required  to  read  a  paragraph 
from  a  newspaper  in  company,  or  if  the  se- 
cretary of  a  society,  your  reading  may  bring 
you  into  favourable  notice.  In  some  com- 
panies your  whole  education  will  be  judged 
of  by  your  capabilities  in  this  one  matter. 
Study  pronunciation  also.  Men  are  alwrays 


POLITE    ACCOMPLISHMENTS.  81 

deemed  more  or  less  ignorant  whilst  they 
pronounce  badly.  Watch  the  best  speakers, 
both  public  and  private,  and  have  a  diction- 
ary always  at  hand;  and  by  a  little  effort, 
care,  and  watchfulness,  you  will  not  be 
afraid  to  open  your  mouth  any  where.  At- 
tend to  the  art  of  writing  also.  Education 
is  not  unfrequently  judged  of  by  ability  in 
this  accomplishment.  To  write  well,  with 
correct  orthography,  is  a  sure  method  of 
gaining  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  a  cor- 
respondent. These  are,  therefore,  to  be 
sought  with  diligence. 

It  is  astonishing  how  much  these  common 
matters  are  neglected.  The  rage  now-a- 
days  is,  to  store  the  mind  with  Latin  and 
Greek,  and  scraps  of  other  branches  of 
learning,  which  sound  large  and  appear 
showy — to  the  neglect  of  other  knowledge 
of  far  more  practical  importance  in  every- 
day transactions.  All  these  can  be  attended 
to,  if  time  and  circumstances  will  permit. 
But  these  last  can  be  dispensed  with  where 
those  above  named  cannot  A  thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  our  own  language  is  to  be 


82  POLITE    ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

sought  first,  with  ability  to  read  and  speak 
it  correctly  and  fluently,  you  should  also 
write  and  compose  with  readiness  and  ease. 
No  man  is  naturally  a  ready  and  good 
writer.  Practice  alone  will  enable  any  man 
to  sit  down  and  throw  his  thoughts  together 
with  force  and  beauty  on  paper.  This  is 
true  of  all  men, — talented  or  not.  First 
efforts  will  always  be  imperfect  and  unsatis- 
factory— but  regard  it  not ;  resolute  perse- 
verance in  the  practice  will  ensure  success. 
You  often  wonder  how  editors  can  throw 
their  thoughts  together  so  amusingly,  and 
wish  you  could  do  the  same.  The  reason 
is  they  are  always  at  it.  Write  much,  and 
you  will  learn  the  secret.  A  good  practice 
is,  to  write  every  day  a  few  lines,  with 
either  pen  or  pencil. 

In  a  word,  whatever  you  admire  in 
another  try  to  acquire  yourself,  and  always 
avoid  what  is  objectionable  and  unlovely. 
Read  correctly,  write  fluently,  be  ready  at 
figures  and  accounts,  easy  and  gentlemanly 
in  conversation — and  without  bad  habits,  ia 
ordinary  matters,  and  you  will  pass  through 


POLITE    ACCOMPLISHMENTS.  83 

the  world  with  a  better  character  for  learn- 
ing than  many  who  are  loaded  with  the 
honours  of  colleges.  All  this  you  can  do 
yourself  if  you  are  determined  to  try.  It 
will  repay  you  a  hundred  fold  for  every  hour 
spent  in  careful  acquisition.  Resolve  that 
no  one  shall  excel  you,  and  you  are  safe. 


84      THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    CHARACTER. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ON    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    CHARACTER. 

FROM  what  has  been  already  said,  it  is 
hoped  you  will  be  prompted  to  activity  in 
using  the  means  which  lead  to  a  due  de- 
velopement  of  the  intellectual  powers.  This 
is  education  of  a  manly  kind,  neglected  by 
none  without  great  and  manifest  loss.  Yet 
this,  properly  attended  to,  will  not  fit  us 
fully  for  life.  To  it  must  be  added  charac- 
ter, or  previous  studies  will  be  almost  use- 
less. I  need  not  describe  it,  you  know  and 
admire  it  wherever  seen.  It  is  found 
among  the  poor  as  well  as  wealthy,  the  un- 
learned as  well  as  masters  of  science.  With- 
out a  good  character  you  will  not,  you  can- 
not succeed  in  life,  whatever  your  other 
qualifications  are.  Deficiency  in  science 
will  be  witnessed  and  pitied  by  your  learned 


THE    MAN    WITHOUT    A    SHADOW.          85 

friends,  but  the  absence  of  character  will 
be  seen  by  all,  and  visited  by  merited  con- 
tempt. You  may  pass  into  good  society 
without  much  education,,  but  without  char- 
acter never.  Where  unknown,  you  may 
succeed  in  making  a  few  acquaintances 
among  the  respectable,  but  as  your  deficien- 
cies come  to  light,  they  will  forsake  you- 
Who  has  not  heard  of  the  man  without  a 
shadow,  and  his  various  efforts  to  conceal 
his  unnatural  defects  ?  Finding  it  difficult 
to  remain  where  he  was  known,  he  fled  into 
other  lands,  where  he  supposed  strangers 
beguiled  by  his  imposing  exterior,  would 
bid  him  welcome  to  good  society.  But  the 
effort  was  as  useless  as  it  was  foolish. 
For  he  dare  not  walk  in  company,  either  by 
sun  or  moonlight,  lest  his  character  should 
be  known,  and  his  monstrous  deficiency 
become  so  visible  as  to  scare  away  his 
companions.  The  only  safe  plan,  therefore 
left  him,  and  which  he  hastily  adopted,  was 
only  to  go  out  in  the  dark  ;  an  expedient, 
no  doubt,  frequently  adopted  by  many  young 
men  in  large  cities,  who  have  wandered 
8 


86  SELF-RESPECT. 

from  the  way  of  understanding.  In  his 
case,  however,  the  effort  was  a  failure,  as 
during  his  walk  with  an  innocent  and  un- 
suspecting lady,  the  clouds  broke  away, 
and  the  moonbeams  came  peering  through 
the  opening,  and  revealed  to  the  fair  one 
that  she  was  walking  with  '  a  man  with- 
out a  shadow.'  Startled  with  alarm,  with- 
out allowing  time  for  expostulation  she  fled, 
and  the  poor  fellow  was  left  to  meditate 
alone. 

The  allegory  needs  no  explanation,  its  in- 
tention is  too  manifest  to  be  mistaken.  It 
has  been  introduced  not  barely  to  amuse, 
but  to  show  that  all  attempts  to  flee  from 
ourselves  are  vain  and  fruitless.  No  man, 
even  among  strangers,  can  sustain  a  forced 
character  long.  When  he  least  suspects  it, 
his  true  character  will  appear  to  his  friends, 
and  he  will  find  himself  forsaken  and  alone. 
He  may  blaze  and  shine  for  a  while,  but 
will  go  out  in  obscurity. 

He  who  would  be  respected  must  first 
respect  himself.  It  is  unreasonable  to  sup- 
pose others  will  entertain  a  high  regard  for 


SELF-RESPECT.  87 

him  who  has  none  for  himself.  Self  respect 
then  is  one  of  the  first  ingredients  in  worthy 
character.  This,  however,  must  not  be 
mistaken  for  foolish  pride,  often  so  ruinous 
to  the  young.  Pride  is  always  offensive  to 
God  and  all  good  men.  It  cannot  well  be 
otherwise.  But  self-respect  is  founded  in 
the  nature  and  common  equality  of  men. 
God  has  created  all  men  equal,  and  all 
should  respect  themselves  because  they  are 
men.  We  hold  an  important  relation  to 
God  and  our  fellows — to  this  world  and  the 
next.  What  immense  power  man  has  or 
may  have !  If  you  do  not  respect  your- 
selves for  what  you  are  now,  reflect  on 
what  you  may  be.  Each  man  has  a  mind 
which  m£y  be  almost  infinitely  expanded — 
has  a  power  of  doing  good,  if  the  energies 
possessed  be  rightly  directed,  only  to  be 
measured  by  Him  who  conferred  it. 

Without  self-respect  these  powers  will 
never  be  cultivated — never  developed  or 
applied  to  any  useful  purpose.  The  man 
who  does  not  esteem  himself,  will  never  re- 
ceive it  from  others.  You  cannot  respect 


88  SELF-RESPECT. 

him  whom  you  know  to  be  careless  of  him- 
self. What  we  seek  in  others,  we  should 
not  be  without.  You  may  laugh  at  the 
man  who  amuses  you  with  boyish  tricks, 
or  foolish  feats  of  skill  in  that  which  can  be 
of  no  possible  use  to  him  or  others,  but  in 
your  heart  you  despise  him.  You  already 
read  his  future  history,  and  foresee  the  dis- 
graceful termination  of  his  career.  Self- 
respect  will  make  you  wary  as  to  company, 
select  in  your  associations,  and  careful  in 
the  formation  of  habits. 

There  is  also  a  dignity  in  manners  which 
is  an  essential  element  of  character.  Some 
men  galvanize  their  muscles  into  a  grin, 
and  affect  to  laugh  at  every  thing.  The 
object  of  this  is  to  please,  but  the  effect  is 
wholly  of  a  different  character.  It  invaria- 
bly makes  a  man  look  childish  in  the  eyes 
of  all  wise  persons.  This  by  all  means 
should  be  avoided.  Cheerfulness  is  always 
indispensable,  and  never  fails  to  adorn  the 
best  society,  but  loud  laughing  and  continu- 
al trifling  destroys  all  dignity.  The  clown 
of  a  public  show  may  attract  much  atten- 


SELF-RESPECT.  89 

tion  and  receive  the  highest  applause,  but 
he  is  heartily  despised  after  all.  Sober 
dignity,  good  sense,  and  ease  of  manners  in 
company,  are  ever  to  be  regarded  as  essen- 
tial to  enduring  reputation. 

Personal  appearance,  though  of  less  con- 
sequence than  other  accomplishments,  is 
not  to  be  wholly  disregarded.  You  always 
feel  more  regard  for  a  stranger  well  clad 
and  neat  in  his  apparel,  than  for  one  whose 
appearance  is  disgusting.  A  dog  will  not 
snap  at  him  half  so  readily.  While  you 
should  guard  against  being  a  man  of  fashion, 
all  men  will  condemn  you  for  being  a  sloven. 
Cleanliness  and  neatness  is  becoming  in  all, 
but  more  especially  in  the  young.  Always 
appear  the  gentleman  in  dress  and  in  dignity 
of  deportment.  Show  that  you  live  well  at 
home,  nor  disgrace  your  mother  and  sisters. 
By  such  a  course,  all  men  will  be  compelled 
to  respect  you  whatever  is  your  situation  in 
life.  Respect  from  others,  is  not  to  be 
lightly  esteemed.  Desire  for  this  is  a  sure 
index  of  future  character  and  standing^ 
Politeness  should  never  be  dispensed  with, 
8* 


90  SFLP-RESPECT. 

even  among  every  day  companions,  as  the 
indulgence  of  improper  habits  soon  makes 
them  permanent. 

This,  however,  will  not  cause  you  to 
struggle  for  another  and  higher  rank.  Nor 
will  it  induce  you  to  seek  release  from  la- 
bor. No  man  is  or  ought  to  be  more  re- 
spected than  the  one  who  daily  toils  for  his 
bread.  The  social  scale  in  {his  day  may 
be  somewhat  out  of  order,  but  it  will  come 
right  hereafter.  The  industrious  classes 
are  the  only  ones  who  can  set  it  right. 
Gentlemen,  so  called,  can  never.  A  man 
maybe  a  true  nobleman  any  where — in  any 
office  or  employment.  If  laboring  men  are 
not  respected,  it  is  because  they  do  not  re- 
spect themselves.  It  is  the  large  soul  that 
forms  the  great  man,  in  whatever  station 
found.  A  man  by  accident  may  attain  an 
elevation,  but  if  it  be  unnatural  to  him,  he 
must  of  necessity  come  down.  But  he  who, 
by  respecting  himself  and  the  exertion  of 
his  energies — by  exercise  of  his  higher 
powers  becomes  elevated,  there  he  remains, 
as  in  a  natural  element.  No  change  of 


RESPECT    FOR    OTHERS.  91 

business,  of  outward  fortune  or  political 
promotion  can  do  this  for  him — it  is  his 
own  work,  aided  by  the  blessing  of  God. 
Self-respect  will  teach  you  not  to  stoop,  or 
veer  from  a  right  course  to  court  the  ap- 
plause of  the  vulgar.  Your  course  should 
be  one  and  unchangeable.  If  the  good  and 
virtuous  respect  you,  regard  not  the  clamour 
of  the  foolish. 

But  self-respect  never  made  a  man 
haughty  and  scornful.  Respect  for  others 
is  one  of  its  important  elements.  It  has 
ever  been  true,  "that  with  what  measure 
ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again." 
The  same  reason  which  shows  the  impor- 
tance of  self-respect,  argues  the  necessity 
of  rendering  it  to  others.  The  true  dignity 
of  every  man  is  in  the  fact  that  he  is  a  man. 
Not  because  he  is  rich,  or  well  dressed,  or 
is  heir  to  a  throne.  The  query  is — is  he  a 
man  belonging  to  our  species — has  he  a  mind 
that  must  live  forever  ?  Does  he  act  well 
his  part  in  the  station  in  which  Providence 
has  placed  him  ?  if  so,  we  are  bound  to  re- 
spect him.  Even  the  wretched,  made  so 


92  MORALITY    AND    RELIGION. 

by  their  own  wilful  misdeeds,  may  be  pitied, 
but  never  should  be  despised.  I  never 
laugh  at  a  staggering  drunkard,  though  I 
often  weep  for  him,  because  I  feel  that  he 
is  a  man,  though  in  ruins,  one  for  whom  Christ 
died,  and  for  whose  benefit  the  vast  creation, 
sun,  moon  and  stars,  clouds  and  seasons  were 
ordained.  Can  I  therefore  despise  him  ? 
The  fear  I  have  for  Him  who  created  him, 
and  my  own  feelings  will  not  allow  it.  In 
respecting  him,  I  cherish  and  fan  the  flame 
of  self-respect. 

Morality  and  Religion  are  essential  to 
good  character.  I  put  these  terms  together 
for  the  reason  that  they  are  united  by  God 
and  nature.  I  believe  it  impossible  to  sepa- 
rate them  without  destroying  both.  There 
may  be  a  sort  of  morality  without  the  sanc- 
tions of  religion,  but  it  illy  deserves  the 
name.  It  may  be  heathen,  but  certainly 
cannot  be  Christian  morality.  The  mor- 
ality of  Socrates  and  Plato  was  not  that  of 
St.  Paul.  Nor  is  the  morality  of  a  modern 
free-thinker  or  semi-believer,  worthy  the 
name  of  Christian.  It  must  be  baptized  in 


MORALITY    AND    RELIGION^  93 

the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  before  it  will  be  endued  with 
power  to  forgive  enemies,  and  those  who 
persecute  and  evil  entreat.  Revenge  was 
a  virtue  with  heathen  moralists,  nor  is  it  far 
otherwise  with  bare  moralists  now.  Christ- 
ian morality,  however,  is  of  a  wholly  differ- 
ent character. 

It  is  not,  however,  my  intention  to  preach 
a  long  sermon  to  those  who  may  read  these 
sheets,  on  the  subject  of  religion,  yet  I  do  wish 
to  impress  the  fact  on  the  mind  of  every 
youth,  that  religion  ought  to  be  his  first 
business.  And  in  this  I  am  only  repeating 
the  instruction  furnished  them  by  the  Sa- 
viour. '  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  (tem- 
poral good)  shall  be  added.'  The  nature  of 
religion,  I  certainly  need  not  pause  to  ex- 
plain. In  a  country  like  this,  where  churches 
are  so  numerous,  and  the  means  of  grace 
accessible  to  all,  there  cannot  be  any  ne- 
cessary darkness  on  this  question.  Char- 
acter and  standing,  based  on  religion,  '  pure 
and  undefiled  before  God  and  the  Father,' 


94  BENEFITS    OF    EARLY    PIETY. 

is  always  worthy  and  permanent.  The 
heart  being  renewed,  and  the  affections  run- 
ning in  a  right  channel,  will  be  almost  sure 
to  conduct  to  honor  and  usefulness — happi- 
ness and  peace.  The  foundation  thus  laid 
being  strong,  the  superstructure  reared  upon 
it  will  not  be  likely  to  crumble  down  by 
age,  or  yield  to  opposing  powers.  Good 
moral  character  commences  in  the  fear  of 
God,  repentance  of  sin,  and  firm  resolutions 
of  rectitude,  to  be  maintained  during  life, 
and  is  carried  out  and  effectuated  by  atten- 
tion to  a  regular  course  of  religious  duty. 
This  will  establish  manly  principles,  give  a 
manly  bearing  to  the  whole  deportment  of 
life,  and  effectually  cure  and  destroy  those 
foolish  tastes  which  lead  so  many  young 
persons  to  ruin.  Religion  in  early  life,  also 
throws  into  good  society,  and  gives  a  taste 
for  what  is  honorable,  virtuous,  and  of  good 
report. 

Religion,  vital  and  saving,  is  important  to 
all,  in  every  period  of  life.  The  bible,  con- 
science, and  the  common  sense  of  mankind, 
all  unitedly  declare  this.  Yet  is  it  more  es- 


ATTENTION    TO    CHURCH.  95 

pecially  necessary  to  those  who  are  forming 
a  character  which  is  to  cleave  to  them 
throughout  life.  But  few  arrive  at  middle 
age,  or  advanced  years,  but  have  to  regret 
some  youthful  folly  which  they  could  wish 
were  blotted  from  the  page  of  their  history. 
To  do  this  now  is  quite  impossible.  It 
might  have  been  avoided  once,  but  cannot 
now  be  erased.  Many  also  contract  habits 
and  form  tastes,  which  are  matters  of  long 
and  mournful  regret  afterwards.  Early 
piety,  is  a  safeguard  against  these.  It  leads 
into  new  society,  and  saves  from  that  which 
is  vicious.  It  saves  from  many  temptations 
and  snares,  into  which  the  careless  and  ir- 
religious are  sure  to  fall.  So  that  he  who 
embraces  religion  early,  is  much  more  likely 
to  be  steadfast  in  his  profession,  than  the 
one  who  defers  so  important  a  matter,  to  a 
more  advanced  period.  The  former  has 
but  few  temptations  compared  to  the  latter, 
his  life  therefore  is  much  more  tranquil,  his 
course  more  steady,  and  his  end  more  peace- 
ful. 

Regular  habitual  attention  to  religious 


96  BENEFITS  OF  A  FIRM  FAITH. 

ivorship,  is  in  this  community  indispensable 
to  moral  character  and  standing.  Do  any 
wish  to  test  the  truth  of  this  remark — the 
means  are  at  hand.  Compare  the  character 
and  standing  of  those  in  your  acquaintance 
who  do,  and  such  as  do  not  frequent  a  place 
of  worship.  Mark  the  difference  between 
them.  Whether  a  man  be  strictly  religious 
or  not,  his  character  and  influence,  as  a 
man,  and  a  citizen,  will  be  much  bettered 
by  steady  regular  church  going  habits.  So 
obvious  is  this  fact  to  common  observation, 
that  it  requires  no  more  than  a  mere  state- 
ment, to  be  convincing. 

Nothing  is  more  essential  to  a  moral  and 
religious  life,  than  a  firm  and  unshaken  faith 
in  the  verities  of  divine  revelation,  and  the 
solemnities  of  a  final  judgment.  Only  let  a 
sense  of  these,  be  done  away  from  the 
human  mind,  and  all  moral  restraint  of  any 
force  or  value  is  gone  with  them.  And 
fallen  man  urged  forward  by  the  force  of  a 
reckless  depravity,  loses  sight  of  future 
acountability  for  his  conduct,  and  gives 
himself  wholly  to  the  enjoyments  of  the 


MAN  A  RELIGIOUS  BEING.  97 

present.  Saying  to  his  soul,  take  pleasure, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow 
shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more  abund- 
ant in  sensual  gratification. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that 
belief  in  the  essential  doctrines  of  religion, 
is  indispensable  to  the  well  being  of  society 
as  well  as  the  happiness  and  temporal  pros- 
perity of  individuals.  All  human  experi- 
ence declares  this  truth,  and  the  providence 
of  God  fully  confirms  the  declaration.  Every 
nation  has  had  its  religion,  both  doctrinal 
and  practical,  and  in  proportion  to  its  purity 
has  been  the  morality  and  happiness  of  the 
people.  Says  a  popular  historian,  "  Man 
has  been  termed  a  religious  being,  because 
in  every  age  and  among  all  people,  we 
discover  a  reverence  and  awe  of  the  divine 
Being,  an  homage  paid  to  Him,  and  an 
open  profession  of  entire  dependence  upon 
Him,  in  all  their  undertakings  and  necessi- 
ties— in  all  their  adversities  and  dangers. 
Incapable  themselves  to  penetrate  futurity, 
and  to  ascertain  events  in  their  own  favor, 
we  find  them  intent  on  consulting  the 
9 


98  THIS  A  CHRISTIAN  COUNTRY. 

divinity,  by  oracles  and  other  methods  of  a 
like  nature,  and  to  merit  His  protection,  by 
prayers,  vows  and  offerings." 

The  country  in  which  we  live,  is  called 
a  Christian  country,  not  because  all  the 
inhabitants  are  Christians — would  to  God 
they  were, — but  because  all  our  laws  and 
institutions  are  based  upon  Christianity. 
Can  that  man  therefore,  have  a  good  repu- 
tation among  his  fellows,  who  pays  no 
regard  to  that,  on  which  so  much  reliance 
has  been,  and  is  still  placed.  None  but 
atheists  can  esteem  him  who  indulges  no 
reverence  for  the  word  of  God,  who  has 
none  of  his  fear  before  his  eyes.  He  who 
chooses  a  course  of  irreligion,  and  prefers 
skepticism  to  a  reverent  faith  in  the  holy 
Scriptures,  generally  if  not  always,  chooses 
early  infamy,  if  not  an  early  grave.  Refer- 
ence could  be  easily  had  to  numerous  facts 
in  proof  of  this,  but  I  forbear  to  adduce 
them.  "A  word  to  the  wise"  is  said  to  be 
sufficient.  "  The  prudent  man  foreseeth  the 
evil  and  hideth  himself,"  while  the  foolish 
pass  on  and  are  punished." 


HAPPINESS  OF  RELIGION.  99 

Infidelity  and  disbelief  are  no  recom- 
mendation to  any  man.  But  it  is  especially 
disgusting,  when  it  appears  in  the  young. 
Whenever  it  is  seen  in  such,  there  is  always 
connected  with  it  a  bold  face,  disrespect  for 
superiors  in  age  and  acquirements,  and  a 
contempt  for  such  usages,  as  general  society 
deems  important  and  sacred.  How  un- 
lovely do  such  things  make  a  young  man 
appear.  What  a  bad  passport  to  the  esteem 
and  good  will  of  those  who  are  capable  of 
doing  him  more  good  than  all  others. 

Nor  does  religion  debar  from  enjoyment. 
None  are  so  happy  and  contented  as  the 
truly  good.  Storms  may  beat  without,  but 
"  a  contented  mind  is  a  continual  feast. " 
Conscious  guilt,  and  peace,are  incompatible. 
They  cannot  exist  together,  being  opposites ; 
two  antagonist  ingredients  in  chemistry 
thrown  together,  effervesce  until  one  over- 
comes the  other.  Conscience,  God's  deputy 
in  the  human  bosom,  must  be  subdued  be- 
fore the  guilty  man  can  have  inward  calm- 
ness. But  the  devoted  and  pious,  walking 
with  nature  and  with  God,  verily  feel 


100  ENERGY  OF  CHARACTER 

"The  day  glides  sweetly  o'er  their  heads 
Made  up  of  innocence  and  love." 

This  is  not  fancy  but  fact,  not  fable,  but 
reality.  The  whole  community  will  sus- 
tain me  in  asserting  that  nothing  throws 
such  a  charm  around  the  young,  as  early 
piety.  It  gives  polish  to  the  loftiest  intellect, 
lustre  to  natural  beauty,  and  is  a  necessary 
finish  to  the  best  education.  It  must  there- 
fore be  an  important  ingredient  in  reputation 
not  to  be  neglected  with  impunity. 

Energy  and  decision,  is  also  essential  to 
desirable  character.  Weakness  of  purpose 
and  constant  vacillation  is  always  attended 
with  non-success  and  followed  by  contempt. 
This  may  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  natural 
and  constitutional  with  some,  but  in  most 
cases,  is  doubtless  the  result  of  habit.  I 
need  not  tell  you  that  the  man  of  no  de- 
cision of  character,  whose  business  and 
purposes  for  life,  like  the  fickle  winds  are 
ever  changing — scarcely  ever  succeeds. 
Observation  has  long  since  taught  you  this. 
The  student  who  enters  upon  one  branch  of 
science,  or  course  of  study,  and  ere  he  is 


AND  PURPOSE.  101 

half  through  abandons  it  for  another,  to 
which  his  changing  fancy  may  lead,  never 
excels  in  any.  He  who  starts  in  a  business 
and  because  he  meets  with  a  few  difficulties 
Jays  it  aside,  removes  his  residence  and 
commences  another,seldom  makes  a  fortune. 
Life  is  too  short  to  admit  of  our  learning 
everything,  desirable  to  know,  or  pursuing 
every  business  promising  a  reward  to  in- 
dustry. Every  man  must  therefore  select 
his  course,  fix  his  object,  and  then  pursue 
the  path  leading  to  it,  with  undeviating 
firmness  and  undying  industry. 

There  are  temptations  enough  in  every 
pursuit  to  lead  an  unstable  mind,  from  its 
legitimate  course.  It  is  so  in  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge,  the  cares  of  business,  and  the 
practice  of  religion.  Man  was  not  intended 
to  waste  his  energies  in  idleness,  and  he 
who  seeks  pleasure,  need  not  dream  of 
fame.  The  one  who  covets  it  must  trim  his 
sails  to  every  breeze,  from  whatever  quarter, 
and  of  consequence  his  course  must  be  an 
indefinite  and  zigzag  one.  He  on  the  con- 
trary who  determines  to  bless  the  world 
9* 


102  DR.  FRANKLIN. 

and  himself  too,  heeds  but  little  fhe  careering 
winds  of  popular  fashion,  and  having  his 
course  fixed,  plies  the  oar  of  personal  appli- 
cation, and  overcomes  every  obstacle  that 
fortune  seemed  to  throw  in  his  way,  until 
he  astonishes  both  his  friends  and  himself. 
He  has  developed  in  himself  powers  which 
at  first  he  was  wholly  unconscious  of  pos- 
sessing. He  has  gained  points  which  he 
formerly  supposed  could  only  be  reached 
by  the  loftiest  intellects,  aided  by  the  most 
advantageous  circumstances. 

Dr.  Franklin  is  a  case  in  point.  He  was 
a  specimen  of  firmness  and  decision  of 
character  from  his  early  boyhood.  Fortune 
did  not  favor  him  half  so  much  as  resolu- 
tion. A  man,  who  like  him,  fixes  his  course 
in  wisdom,  and  then  prefers  living  upon 
saw  dust  puddings,  rather  than  throw  away 
his  principles,  to  please  a  junto  of  his  pre- 
tended friends  or  real  patrons,  need  not  fear 
the  frowns  of  fortune.  We  may  form  some 
idea  of  his  undying  perseverance  and  firm- 
ness of  purpose  in  the  fact,  that  when  at- 
tempting to  unlock  a  hidden  chamber  of 


FIRMNESS.  103 

science,  he  daringly  called  fire  from  the 
clouds,  duly  to  temper  and  take  the  rust 
from  his  key.  Tempting  fashions  and 
foolish  amusements  were  no  doubt  popular 
in  his  day  as  well  as  in  ours.  Inducements 
were  held  out  to  betray  young  men  into 
improprieties,  and  lead  them  to  abandon 
their  purposed  course  of  life.  In  his  case, 
however,  they  were  happily  unsuccessful. 
Yet  young  men  in  these  days  of  rapid 
improvement  think  they  have  grown  wiser 
than  their  ancestors,  and  hope  to  be  great 
by  treading  in  the  seductive  paths  of  fashion 
and  folly.  Mistaken  men — they  will  soon 
find  to  their  mortification  and  fruitless 
regret  that  they  have  made  a  serious  mis- 
calculation. Figs  will  not  grow  from 
thistles,  nor  character  and  standing  from  a 
course  of  thoughtless  folly.  Character  so 
gained,  if  it  be  allowed  the  name,  is  as 
unlovely  in  the  eyes  of  the  truly  wise,  as  it 
is  painful  and  troublesome  to  its  possessor. 
Firmness  and  decision  of  purpose  is  con- 
spicuous as  a  predominant  quality  of  mind, 
in  every  man  who  has  distinguished  him- 


104  DECISION. 

self  in  the  world's  history.  History,  both 
sacred  and  profane,  pays  a  full  tribute  to 
the  truth  of  this  remark.  Noah  stood 
almost  alone  in  his  righteous  course,  in  the 
midst  of  a  world  of  wickedness.  Moses 
had  the  courage  to  take  a  most  singular 
course,  and  dared  to  tread  upon  the  tempt- 
ing honors  of  royalty.  Daniel  pursued 
undeviatingly  the  pious  tenor  of  his  way, 
in  the  very  teeth  of  a  royal  decree,  that  con- 
signed him  to  the  most  fearful  sepulchre 
ever  opened  to  man.  And  St.  Paul  has 
perhaps  never  been  equalled  for  the  pre- 
dominance of  this  excellent  quality  of  mind. 
Killed  he  might  have  been,  but  scared  or 
turned  aside  he  never  was.  This  was  be- 
yond the  power  of  friends  or  foes.  The 
former  essayed  it  by  boding  prophecies  and 
tears  at  Cesarea  ;  the  latter,  by  throwing 
dust  in  the  air  at  Ephesus.  But  all  was  in 
vain,  the  undying  firmness  of  the  Apostle 
was  not  in  the  least  shaken  by  it  all. 

The  same  unyielding  disposition  has  cha- 
racterized every  distinguished  man  who 
has  lived  since.  We  are  indebted  to  this 


EXAMPLES.  305 

same  spirit  in  Martin  Luther  for  the  Refor- 
mation and  Protestantism.  And  permit  me 
to  say,  that  this  spirit  which  dwelt  so  emi- 
nently in  Luther,  must  soon  be  found  in 
American  Protestants,  or  some  of  the  worst 
evils  of  the  dark  ages  will  ere  long  be  vis- 
ited upon  us.  Columbus  had  to  overcome 
a  world  of  difficulty,  in  order  to  carry  out 
his  cherished  schemes  of  adventurous  dis- 
covery. Hundreds  of  men  would  have 
shrunk  from  the  attempt,  though  encour- 
aged with  abundance  of  proffered  facilities. 
Yet  solitary  and  alone,  by  the  might  of  his 
own  energy  he  conquered  popular  opposi- 
tion, and  fainted  not  under  the  withering 
influence  of  royal  apathy.  A  new  world 
has  rewarded  his  resolute  industry,  nor  shall 
his  name  perish  while  the  sun  endures. 

Your  first  point  is  to  become  intelligent, 
so  as  to  discern  a  right  from  a  wrong  course. 
This  may  be  attained  by  reading  history 
and  biography,  together  with  close  observa- 
tion of  men  and  things  about  you.  Living 
men  are  a  good  and  profitable  study.  Mark 
their  rise,  progress,  business,  mode  of  life, 


106  HARD  TOIL  IS  USEFUL. 

habits,  tempers,  standing,  and  all  attending 
circumstances.  This  over,  choose  your  own 
course,  ever  bearing  in  mind,  that  like 
causes  produce  similar  effects,  all  other 
things  being  equal.  Settling  it  in  your 
mind  as  an  eternal  principle,  that  nothing  is 
to  be  gained  without  labor.  Never  expect 
fortune  to  do  aught  that  you  should  do 
yourselves.  Then  having  laid  your  course, 
like  the  mariner  upon  the  trackless  deep, 
fix  your  eye  upon  the  pole  star,  and  dont 
forget  your  reckoning.  Your  bark  may  be 
a  slow  sailer,  and  at  first  left  far  behind — 
yet  while  others  may  be  wrecked,  you  shall 
reach  the  port  in  safety  and  triumph.  The 
race  is  riot  always  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle 
won  by  the  strong.  Never  should  any  be 
discouraged,  because  others  seem  naturally 
endowed  with  more  firmness  and  decision 
than  they.  Habits  are  easily  formed,  either 
of  weakness,  or  strength  of  vice  or  virtue. 
Courage  and  the  power  of  endurance  are 
the  product  of  custom  as  well  as  nature. 
You  may  make  yourself  effeminate  and 
indolent,  or  brave  and  persevering.  "  Man- 


EMPLOYMENT  NECESSARY.  107 

ual  labor,"  says  an  excellent  author,  "  is  a 
school  in  which  men  are  placed  to  get  en- 
ergy of  purpose  and  character ;  a  vastly 
more  important  endowment  than  all  the 
learning  of  all  the  schools.  They  are  placed, 
indeed,  under  hard  masters,  physical  suffer- 
ing, and  wants,  the  power  of  fearful  ele- 
ments, and  the  vicissitudes  of  all  human 
things ;  but  these  stern  teachers  do  a  work 
which  no  compassionate  indulgent  friend 
could  do  for  us;  and  true  wisdom  will  bless 
Providence  for  their  sharp  ministry.  I  have 
great  faith  in  hard  work.  I  believe  that 
difficulties  are  more  important  to  the  hu- 
man mind  than  what  we  call  assistances. 
Work  we  all  must,  if  we  mean  to  bring  out 
and  perfect  our  nature.  No  business  or 
study,  which  does  not  present  obstacles, 
tasking  to  the  full  the  intellect  and  the  will 
is  worthy  of  a  man.  I  do  not  then  desire 
to  release  the  laborer  from  toil.  This  is  not 
the  elevation  to  be  sought  for  him.  Manual 
labor  is  a  great  good  ;  but,  in  so  saying  I 
must  be  understood  to  speak  of  labor  in  its 
just  proportion.  It  is  not  good  when  made 


108  EMPLOYMENT  NECESSARY. 

the  sole  work  of  life.  In  excess  it  does 
great  harm.  It  must  be  joined  with  higher 
means  of  improvement,  or  it  degrades  in- 
stead of  exalting.  Man  has  a  various 
nature,  which  requires  a  variety  of  occu- 
pation and  discipline  for  its  growth.  Study, 
meditation,  society  and  relaxation,  should 
be  mixed  up  with  physical  toils.  Life 
should  be  an  alternation  of  employments, 
so  diversified  as  to  call  the  whole  man  into 
action." 

The  idle  man  at  any  age  was  never 
happy.  It  is  contrary  to  a  law  of  his  crea- 
tor, that  he  should  be.  Many  hope  for 
wealth  and  the  means  to  support  them  in 
inactivity.  This  is  all  wrong.  Why  not 
hope  and  toil  for  means  of  usefulness. 
The  reason  why  so  many  aged  persons  lose 
their  faculties  so  soon,  is  because  they  are 
not  kept  in  exercise.  They  rust  for  want 
of  employment.  The  most  miserable,  are 
those  who  have  nothing  to  do.  The  mind 
and  body  both  should  be  employed  to  the 
last,  if  we  wish  to  keep  them  vigorous. 
Man  can  be  trained  and  accustomed  to  al- 


NOTHING  GAINED  WITHOUT  TOIL.      109 

most  any  thing.  Bonaparte  was  born  and 
trained  in  the  heat  of  revolution  and  war. 
A  military  life  was  then  and  there,  almost 
the  only  road  to  distinction.  He  caught 
the  inspiration  of  the  times,  and  by  dint  of 
firmness  and  perseverance  became  emi- 
nent. It  may,  or  may  not  have  been  na- 
tural to  him.  Had  he  been  the  son  of  a 
great  farmer,  and  spent  his  youth  in  per- 
forming the  duties  of  retired  life,  perhaps 
he  would  not  have  been  such  a  prodigy  of 
decision  and  firmness.  What  the  world  in 
his  case  has,  therefore,  called  a  natural  en- 
dowment, may  have  been  the  result  of  cir- 
cumstances only.  Many  a  man  has  laid 
the  flattering  unction  to  his  soul,  that  he 
possessed  certain  talents,  friends  have  flat- 
tered him  into  a  belief  that  these  must 
create  for  him  certain  distinction  in  a  future 
day ;  but  alas,  for  lack  of  diligence  in  their 
development,  all  has  ended  in  disappoint- 
ment. In  cases  where  nature  has  seemed 
most  parsimonious,  industry  and  applica- 
tion has  created  distinction.  Most  men  rise 
because  they  will  rise — labor  is  every  thing 
10 


110  HONESTY. 

to  the  young,  and  fortune  is  generally  an 
idle  word  much  in  use,  but  seldom  under- 
stood. 

HONESTY  and  unyielding  INTEGRITY  in 
all  transactions — be  they  large  and  there- 
fore publicly  known — or  so  small  as  never 
to  come  to  the  light  of  public  observation,  is 
one  of  the  most  important  attributes  of  cha- 
racter, and  never  dispensed  with  without 
manifest  loss.  No  reproach  so  effectually 
and  completely  blasts  and  ruins  a  man's 
reputation  as  being  called  a  rogue  and 
cheat.  Better  be  poor  all  the  days  of  your 
life,  with  the  consciousness  of  stern  recti- 
tude in  principle  and  practice,  than  rich  as 
Croesus — with  the  guilty  reflection  that 
wealth  was  improperly  accumulated.  It  is 
bad  enough  to  be  called  a  rogue,  and  for- 
ever branded  in  society  as  a  dishonest  man, 
but  it  is  infinitely  worse  to  feel  the  continual 
upbraidings  of  an  inward  guiltiness  which 
allows  the  spirit  no  repose  either  by  night 
or  day.  A  man  may  flee  from  the  well 
aimed  shafts  of  others — and  in  his  moments 
of  domestic  retirement  amidst  his  family 


HONESTY.  Ill 

and  friends  find  comfort  provided  he  be  in- 
nocent, but  if  guilty  in  vain  may  he  attempt 
to  escape  from  the  reprovings  of  his  own 
conscience.  Matters  may  also  be  so  man- 
aged, that  others  may  not  be  able  to  detect 
a  dereliction  from  a  course  of  integrity,  and 
we  may  retire  with  some  honor  from  the 
place  of  trade ;  but  there  is  no  comfort — 
except  to  the  innocent ;  God  and  our  own 
souls  know  if  others  do  not,  and  this  is  suf- 
ficient to  bar  from  all  enjoyment.  The 
open  countenance,  and  manly  bearing— re- 
sults of  innocency — are  gone.  The  money 
taken  from  an  employer's  desk  may  never 
be  missed,  but  the  fear  that  it  will — the 
dread  of  detection,  will  create  a  burning 
sensation — quenching  forever  the  flame  of 
joy  which  was  wont  to  light  up  the  counte- 
nance, and  fill  with  continual  trepidation, 
utterly  incompatible  with  peace  of  mind. 
Other  men  may  never  know  the  depth  of 
moral  turpitude  into  which  such  an  one  has 
fallen,  but  it  is  enough  that  he  knows  it  him- 
self and  dreads  its  fearful  consequences. 
Self-respect  is  a  wall  of  protection  to  in- 


112  GUILT    OF    ONE    OFFENCE. 

nocency.  But  one  dishonest  act,  however 
trifling,  weakens,  and  two  or  three  destroy 
it  forever.  It  matters  but  little  where  the 
opinions  of  society  place  a  man,  if  he  knows 
himself  to  be  numbered  with  the  dishonest 
and  vulgar.  The  way  is  prepared  to  every 
species  of  crime,  no  matter  how  degrading. 
No  man  can  be  a  gentleman  after  having 
lost  self-respect.  Thousands  are  annually 
ruined  by  not  heeding  the  first  step  in  a 
downward  passage.  The  first  guilty  act 
relaxes  the  stern  principle  of  integrity,  dis- 
orders the  whole  moral  machinery,  and  the 
man  is  in  ruins  without  being  aware  of  his 
condition.  He  is  then  left  a  prey  to  the 
fierce  anarchy  of  every  unruly  passion — 
arid  the  wild  control  of  all  those  depravities 
which  agitate  and  deform  poor  human 
nature. 

It  is  my  object  to  impress  upon  your 
minds  in  the  outset  of  your  career  that  the 
sin  of  dishonesty  is  not  to  be  measured  by 
the  magnitude  of  its  gains ;  this  principle  of 
judgment  has  obtained  far  too  extensively 
among  men,  and  has  doubtless  misled 


DISHONESTY    RUINOUS.  113 

many.  "  He  that  ofTendeth  in  one  point  is 
guilty  of  all" — is  the  scriptural  and  only 
true  rule  in  the  case  ;  the  act  of  crossing  the 
line  marking  the  difference  between  honesty 
and  dishonesty — not  the  distance  travelled 
afterwards — is  what  constitutes  the  chief 
criminality.  The  point  of  time  in  which 
principle  yielded  to  temptation  was  the 
most  important  one,  because  the  work  of 
degradation  and  ruin  then  commenced ;  the 
moral  principles  then  gave  way — whether 
the  resulting  gain  was  a  penny  or  a  thou- 
sand pounds.  And  if  the  circumstances 
come  to  the  light  of  public  notoriety,  com- 
munity will  award  the  heaviest  condemna- 
tion to  the  seemingly  smaller  offence,  be- 
cause the  temptation  was  less.  In  this  they 
are  right,  as  the  moral  depravity  is  certain- 
ly the  most  apparent. 

We  always  despise  the  highwayman,  but 
are  ever  wont  to  deem  him  the  worst  who 
commits  murder  under  circumstances  af- 
fording the  least  prospect  of  gain, — rightly 
judging  that  there  depravity  has  done  its 
most  perfect  work.  On  the  same  principle 


114  DISHONESTY    RUINOUS.          * 

he  who  cheats  another  out  of  a  small  sum, 
is  supposed  to  possess  a  meaner  soul  than 
the  one  who  plays  the  rogue  for  a  higher 
prize.  In  both  cases,  however,  vileness 
will  be  their  ruin,  "  and  their  sins  will  find 
them  out." 

Whether  it  be  right  or  wrong  it  cannot 
be  disputed  that  community  will  retain  the 
remembrance  of  one  mean  or  wicked  act, 
while  scores  of  virtuous  and  praise-worthy 
deeds  are  forgotten  altogether;  it  is  so  in 
savage  and  civilized  life.  "  He  once  told  a 
lie,"  is  with  an  Indian  a  sufficient  reason 
for  refusing  to  credit  him  forever  after.  We 
are  much  more  apt  to  remember  the  stormy 
than  the  clear  day — the  ugly  than  the  beau- 
tiful face.  Perhaps  the  reason  is,  because 
they  are  unnatural  or  unexpected,  and 
therefore  leave  the  deeper  impression. — 
Every  man's  honor  should  be  stainless  and 
without  suspicion;  one  blot  upon  reputa- 
tion, like  a  scar  in  the  flesh,  will  be  carried 
with  you  to  the  grave. 

He  therefore,  who  covets  worthy  reputa- 
tion, must  not  tamper  with  either  large  or 


.HONESTY  THE  BEST  POLICY.     115 

small  temptations.  His  only  safety  is  not  to 
touch,  taste  or  handle.  In  buying  or  sel- 
ling, to  speak  truth  only,  in  the  integrity  of 
his  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  God  his  Judge, 
is  the  only  safe  course.  If  he  could  make 
himself  rich  by  a  false  representation,  he  is 
better,  far  better  without  it.  The  true  se- 
cret of  successful  resistance  of  temptation 
in  this,  as  in  all  other  cases,  is  not  to  indulge 
or  give  a  moment's  place  to  dishonorable 
thoughts  and  suggestions.  Nor  can  any  one 
long  pursue  this  course  without  its  being 
known  to  his  employers  or  those  who  trade 
with  him.  The  eyes  of  community  are 
soon  turned  upon  him  as  a  trust-worthy  man 
of  honour,  and  his  very  word  carries  as 
much — nay  more,  security  along  with  it, 
than  the  signature  and  security  which  is  ex- 
acted of  other  men.  This,  you  will  say,  is 
an  argument  derived  from  selfishness.  I 
admit  it,  and  in  so  doing,  willingly  pay  a 
tribute  to  the  force  and  power  of  this  prin- 
ciple. Selfishness  is  one  of  those  principles 
which  mightily  aid  in  preserving  the  peace 
of  the  world,  and  contributing  to  the  happi- 


116  SELFISHNESS. 

ness  of  mankind.  Nations  respect  each  other 
because  they  hope  to  derive  gain  from 
the  maintenance  of  peaceful  relationship. 
The  employer  and  employed  are  bound  to 
each  other  by  the  same  principle  of  personal 
advantage — which,  carried  out  as  it  is,  into 
all  the  ramifications  of  society,  shows  it  to 
be  a  providential  arrangement  for  the  com- 
mon good.  Every  man  is  and  should  be  in- 
fluenced in  his  conduct,  by  the  effect  his 
own  course  will  produce  upon  himself — 
what  opinion  the  world  will  form  of  his  char- 
acter. I  admit  that  the  fear  of  Divine  dis- 
pleasure and  the  hope  of  Divine  favor,  are 
much  loftier  principles  of  action.  But, 
though  it  be  a  humiliating  view  of  poor  fal- 
len humanity,  which  fully  confirms  the  re- 
presentation given  of  it  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, it  must  be  admitted  that  selfishness 
with  the  multitude  exerts  a  much  more  po- 
tent influence  than  the  declared  will  of  God, 
or  the  approaching  retributions  of  the  last 
day.  If  there  were  no  other  proof  of  a 
common  depravity  resting  upon  all  our  spe- 
cies, this  of  itself  is  sufficient  to  show  the 


ECONOMY.  117 

grievous  state  of  revolt  from  divine  control, 
in  which  society  exists.  The  query  seldom 
comes  up — what  is  the  pleasure  of  Him  who 
made  and  sustains  me,  but  what  opinions 
will  men  form  of  my  conduct,  and  how  will 
it  affect  other  transactions  through  life? 
The  trite  maxim  that  *  honesty  is  the  best 
policy,'  is  frequently  powerfully  influential 
for  good  to  society,  where  the  fear  of  God 
has  little  or  no  influence.  The  hope  is  how- 
ever indulged,  that  those  who  condescend 
to  read  these  pages,  will  'seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  his  righteousness,'  to  which 
they  have  been  previously  recommended, 
that  both  principles  may  have  their  appro- 
priate influence  in  the  formation  of  their 
character,  and  wise  direction  of  their  lives. 
But  few,  however,  in  the  ordinary  walks 
of  life,  will  for  any  length  of  time,  maintain 
strict  honesty  and  integrity  of  character, 
without  economy.  Could  we  investigate 
the  life  and  doings  of  the  veriest  outlaw  ex- 
isting, whose  sole  occupation  is  highway 
robbery  and  murder,  it  would  be  found,  I 
verily  believe,  that  he  commenced  a  dishon- 


118  EXPENSE    OF     FASHION. 

est  course  of  life  to  meet  the  demands  of 
habitual  profligacy  of  expenditure.  I  doubt 
whether  any  thing  is  more  dangerous  to  a 
man's  whole  character,  than  careless  im- 
providence in  early  life.  The  mechanic, 
clerk,  or  tradesman,  wishes  to  ape  the  gen- 
tleman. His  coat  must  be  as  fine  and  fash- 
ionable— his  house  and  furniture  must  cor- 
respond with  his  appearance  in  the  street — 
in  a  word,  he  must  maintain  appearances 
in  a  style  equal  to  those  about  him.  But 
his  income  is  moderate,  and  will  not  justify 
it.  It  is  sufficient  for  the  necessaries  and 
comforts  of  life,  but  not  for  its  gaieties  and 
superfluities.  What  is  to  be  done — style 
must  not  be  curtailed,  let  the  consequences 
be  what  they  may.  Peculation  and  down- 
right dishonesty  is  resorted  to,  to  save  from 
open  failure  and  dreaded  disgrace.  How 
much  better  to  have  never  plunged  into  such 
a  course  of  life  as  to  involve  so  fearful  an 
alternative.  Every  man  should  live  within 
his  means,  and  if  possible,  save  a  little  to 
serve  as  his  support  and  maintenance  during 
sickness  and  times  of  revulsion  in  trade. 


CARE    FOR    LITTLE    THINGS.         119 

Without  such  a  prudent  carefulness,  he 
will  find  himself  in  serious  difficulties, 
and  be  compelled  to  ask  aid  from  his 
neighbors,  more  than  once  in  his  life  time. 
The  money  foolishly  spent  by  most  persons 
before  they  reach  their  twenty-fifth  year,  if 
properly  saved,  would  serve  to  set  them  up 
in  profitable  business.  What  must  be  the 
regret,  therefore  of  such,  when  a  few  years 
have  furnished  them  with  sufficient  discre- 
tion to  see  their  former  errors?  But  unfor- 
tunately they  see  it  too  late.  Half  of  life 
is  past,  their  earnings  have  been  transferred 
to  other  hands,  and  what  is  worse  than  all, 
in  too  many  cases,  habits  of  useless  expen- 
diture are  formed,  which  cleave  to  them 
like  their  shadow  during  life. 

It  was  the  saying  of  a  wise  man,  « take 
care  of  the  pennies  and  the  dollars  will  take 
care  of  themselves.'  Parents  themselves 
are  apt  to  teach,  and  children  do  not  forget 
the  lesson,  that  pennies  and  sixpences  are 
of  but  little  account.  Rivers  are  composed 
of  drops — the  tree  grows  from  an  acorn  or 
a  small  seed.  Throughout  nature,  Divine 


120  EXPENSES. 

Providence  has  instructed  us  to  regard  little 
matters  as  worthy  of  notice.  And  he  who, 
reckless  of  reason,  nature,  and  the  cautions 
of  friendship,  improvidently  dashes  into  a 
course  of  prodigal  expenditure,  will  most 
probably  see  the  time  when  he  will  know 
the  value  of  little  things,  as  they  will  con- 
stitute all  his  wealth.  He  who  would  care- 
fully save  his  earnings,  and  avoid  spending 
every  thing  as  fast  as  it  is  acquired,  will 
have  to  look  well  to  his  associations  and 
habits.  If  he  accustom  himself  to  attend 
balls  and  parties  of  fashion — to  be  in  com- 
pany almost  every  evening,  in  vain  may  he 
hope  ever  to  save  a  dollar  beyond  present 
wants.  His  income  may  increase,  but  the 
demand  for  its  expenditure  will  proportion- 
ately enlarge.  By  skill  and  industry  he  may 
manage  to  preserve  an  even  balance  for  a 
few  years,  but  unforseen  circumstances 
will  throw  him  behind  hand,  while  the  score 
will  go  on  accumulating  against  him.  At 
first  he  will  save  himself  from  disgrace  by 
borrowing  of  a  friend,  and  apply  the  whole 
fofce  of  his  ingenuity  to  keep  up  appear- 


KINDNESS.  121 

ances,  but  it  is  all  vain,  there  are  too  many 
leaks,  no  one  of  which  can  be  stopped  with- 
out an  acknowledgment  of  his  pecuniary 
disabilities.  He  therefore  suffers  matters  to 
proceed  to  a  crisis,  and  sinks  at  once  from 
observation,  perhaps  to  rise  no  more  forever. 
How  many  such  unfortunate  wrecks  now 
line  the  borders  of  fashionable  life,  who,  had 
they  begun  right  and  taken  the  honorable 
course  of  self-denial  and  economy,  would 
have  been  ornaments  to  society — living  in 
respectable  competence,  if  not  affluence. 

Kindness  and  good  nature,  in  social  in- 
tercourse, vastly  contributes  to  character 
and  happiness  in  life.  You  doubtless  know 
many,  who  in  various  respects  are  excellent 
men.  Their  moral  standing  as  citizens  is 
without  reproach,  and  »their  lives  are  so  re- 
gular as  to  gather  about  them  a  most  excel- 
lent moral  influence.  Yet,  although  you 
entertain  for  them  a  marked  respect,  you 
cannot  love  them.  They  seem  to  live  alone 
in  the  heart  of  a  dense  population.  If  they 
are  men  of  science,  there  is  such  an  unsocial 
moroseness  about  them,  that  they  seem  to 
11 


122  KINDNESS. 

communicate  none  of  their  light  to  others* 
Are  they  men  of  business,  you  are  not  fond 
of  trading  with  them — or  if  they  are  reli- 
gious, you  are  not  disposed  to  question  their 
piety — but  it  wins  not,  there  is  such  a  sour, 
gloominess  about  it,  that  to  you  it  holds  out 
no  invitation.  I  have  no  doubt  that  strong 
prejudices  unfavorable  to  religion  in  gene- 
ral, have  been  formed,  and  many  have  per- 
ished from  the  way,  because  of  the  ambigu- 
ous and  unintelligible  signals  that  such  men 
have  held  out. 

Such  you  may  respect  for  their  many 
virtues,  but  love  them  you  cannot.  It  is 
contrary  to  a  law  of  your  nature,  which 
you  find  it  difficult  to  control.  Be  careful 
then,  that  what  is  unlovely  in  others  do  not 
cleave  to  you,  lest  you  form  the  same  char- 
acter ere  you  are  aware.  Habits  either  of 
feeling  or  action  are  soon  fixed.  A  severe, 
morose,  and  unkind  temper,  or  a  kind  and 
amiable  one,  is  a  matter  of  cultivation,  as 
well  as  of  nature.  It  is  for  each  one  to  say 
whether  he  will  have  many  or  few  friends — 
whether  he  will  be  loved  or  hated,  held  to, 


MANLINESS.  123 

or  despised.  No  man  should  ever  forget 
that  it  is  now  as  true  as  it  ever  was,  *  that 
he  who  would  have  friends,  must  show  him- 
self friendly' — a  maxim  as  wise  as  it  is  di- 
vine, which  should  never  lose  its  influence 
over  us. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood  however. 
I  would  not  have  you  sacrifice  principle  for 
the  sake  of  friendship.  You  are  always  to 
preserve  a  manly  dignity  in  the  acquisition 
of  social  dispositions  and  habits.  Losing 
sight  of  this,  you  will  miss  your  aim  and  fall 
into  contempt.  Some  there  are,  who,  seeing 
the  great  value  of  social  kindness  as  an  at- 
tribute of  character,  attempt  its  attainment 
without  duly  understanding  its  nature,  and 
render  themselves  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of 
all,  by  bowing,  scraping,  and  assenting  to 
every  opinion  of  their  fellows,  whether 
right  or  wrong.  Thus  evincing  that  they 
have  no  minds  of  their  own  to  rely  upon, — 
and^what  is  still  worse,  that  they  are  guided 
by  no  fixed  principles  of  action  or  opinion. 
Whilst  this  is  to  be  avoided  by  maintaining 
a  proper  self-respect  and  manliness  of  de- 


124  EXERTION    OF    INFLUENCE. 

portment,  such  attention  should  always  be 
paid  to  those  about  us,  and  such  social 
habits  formed,  as  will  secure  us  a  place  in 
their  affectionate  regards. 

We  are  not  placed  here  so  much  to  find 
fault  with  the  errors  of  others,  as  to  do 
them  good.  Forgetting  this,  some  are  ever 
complaining  that  the  world  is  not  what  it 
should  be — always  looking  at  the  gloomy 
side  of  matters,  without  once  dreaming  that 
this  course  will  tend  to  sour  their  own 
spirits,  render  their  society  unsavory  to 
their  associates,  and  thus  disarm  them  of 
all  power  of  usefulness.  The  object  of 
these  pages  is  to  point  out  '  a  more  excel- 
lent way.'  The  way  of  exerting  a  kind 
and  salutary  power  over  those  with  whom 
you  associate,  that  having  won  upon  their 
better  feelings,  you  may  lead  them  into  the 
happy  paths  of  virtue,  and  thus  save  them 
from  the  evils  of  which  you  complain. 


ANTAGONIST  INFLUENCES.  125 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DANGERS  COMMON  TO  YOUTH. 

I  have  been  urging  the  necessity  of  a  good 
moral  and  manly  character,  and  pointing  to 
those  means  which  directly  lead  to  its  for- 
mation. You  cannot  be  too  deeply  im- 
pressed with  a  sense  of  the  importance  nor 
too  industriously  use  the  means  which  in- 
variably lead  to  good  character.  Reputation 
to  a  man  who  has  to  live  among  men,  and 
therefore  has  much  to  gain  or  lose,  is  almost 
every  thing.  Confidence  is  the  soul  of 
business,  nor  will  he  who  inspires  none, 
ever  do  much. 

But  there  are  various  antagonist  influ- 
ences operating  in  all  communities,  espe- 
cially in  large  cities  and  densely  populated 
towns,  tending  to  prevent  young  persons 
from  forming  and  maintaining  moral  and 
11* 


126  LABOR  AND  TOIL 

religious  character.  In  addition  to  that 
natural  recklessness,  resulting  from  inex- 
perience, sloth,  love  of  leisure  and  aversion 
to  laborious  effort,  so  common  to  humanity, 
there  are  numerous  temptations  held  out,  to 
allure,  decoy  and  lead  away  young  men 
from  the  happy  paths  of  religion,  virtue  and 
moral  worth.  A  few  of  these  may  be 
named. 

•Ambition  cries  for  immediate  distinc- 
tion. An  anxiety  is  felt,  to  be  placed  side 
by  side  with  the  older  portions  of  the  com- 
munity without  having  had  time  for  such  a 
result.  A  desire  to  stand  upon  the  moun- 
tain's summit,  without  enduring  the  inter- 
mediate toil.  Youth  and  inexperience  are 
apt  to  be  enthusiastic,  to  expect  the  end 
without  the  sturdy,  and  continued  use  of  the 
means  naturally  leading  to  it.  Ambition 
under  due  control,  is  a  great  virtue,  and  its 
absence  is  a  most  wretched  misfortune,  for 
which  nothing  can  atone.  But  then  it 
should  be  properly  directed  and  applied,  or 
like  the  unruly  horse  it  will  create  ruin  by 
too  great  tiaste.  The  result  of  over  anxiety 


GO  BEFORE  DISTINCTION.  127 

to  be  placed  in  the  front  rank  either  of 
literature  or  wealth,  is  generally  failure  and 
discouragement.  Every  man  wants  to  be 
a  star,  to  attract  the  eyes  and  engross  the 
attention  of  his  associates.  But  he  should 
remember  that  to  gain  his  object ;  time,  ia- 
bor,and  unremitting  industry,  are  required. 
To  reach  the  heights  of  a  mountain,  all  the 
intermediate  distance  is  to  be  traversed. 
To  be  a  man  of  knowledge,  much,  reading 
and  self-denial  are  to  be  used.  The  end  is 
not  so  important  now  as  the  successful  use 
of  the  means  leading  to  it.  You  should  be 
more  anxious  to  secure  the  next  step,  than 
the  glory  of  standing  on  the  mountain's 
loftiest  point.  It  is  well  that  there  is  no 
royal  road  to  fame  and  distinction  in  this 
country.  I  heartily  rejoice  that  there  is 
none.  Every  man  now  has  his  own  way 
to  make  through  life,  future  standing,  and 
respectability,  is  the  prize  for  which  he  is 
called  upon  to  contend.  The  discipline 
which  his  faculties  will  receive  in  gaming 
his  object,  will  be  of  far  more  value  to  him 
than  the  prize  itself,  if  inherited  from  his 


128  USELESS  COMPANY. 

ancestors.  Honor  follows  humility  :  he 
who  would  walk  erect  hereafter,  must  be 
willing  to  stoop  now.  In  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  those  who  blaze  extraordinarily  at  first 
go  out  in  obscurity,  and  in  a  few  years  are 
forgotten.  Fruit  of  the  most  speedy  growth, 
like  the  Prophet's  gourd,  is  found  soonest 
to  perish.  Let  ambition  indulge  large  hopes 
for  the  future,  but  stifle  and  slay  envy.  If 
others  out  run  you,  let  them  go,  bid  them 
good  speed,  and  wish  them  success.  But 
relax  no  effort  to  enrich  the  soil  of  your 
own  mind,  suffering  time  and  circumstances 
to  develope  abilities  for  usefulness.  Gold 
will  shine  and  command  its  value  some 
time — baser  metals  may  glow  for  a  while, 
and  command  admiration  from  the  vulgar, 
but  will  soon  seek  their  level  and  lose  ficti- 
tious importance.  Let  it  never  be  forgotten 
that  true  greatness  is  the  result  of  much 
toil  and  long  years  of  diligent  cultivation. 
This  once  firmly  fixed  in  the  mind,  will 
save  from  those  discouragements  which 
usually  follow  miscalculation,  and  too  early 
indulgence  of  a  desire  to  shine. 


USELESS  COMPANY.  129 

Habits  of  useless  intercourse  with  asso- 
ciates is  also  vastly  injurious  to  the  young. 
Association  is  natural,  and  all  will  more  or 
less  indulge  in  it,  nor  should  a  word  be  said 
against  it,  provided  the  tendency  of  it  is,  to 
make  youth  wiser  and  better.  But  whilst 
this  is  conceded,  it  must  be  admitted  that  in 
all  dense  populations  this  indulgence  is 
carried  much  too  far.  Time  is  valuable  to 
all,  yet  not  equally  so.  To  the  young  every 
day  and  hour  is  more  precious  than  gold  or 
silver.  They  have  character  to  form,  know- 
ledge to  gain  and  business  habits  to  acquire. 
Some  of  these  must  be  neglected  if  much 
time  is  needlessly  spent  in  the  idle  chat  of 
social  parties.  I  have  frequently  passed 
the  door  of  an  engine  house,  to  ward  evening, 
and  seeing  a  number  of  young  men  hanging 
about  it,  in  listless  inaction,  or  cleansing  the 
ornaments  =  attached  to  the  apparatus,  I 
have  enquired  of  myself,  what  prospects  or 
hopes  do  such  persons  indulge  for  the  future? 
As  they  sow — so  shall  they  reap.  How 
they  will  regret  the  waste  of  this  time  at  a 


130  BAD  HABITS. 

day,  not  very  distant,  wheiij  taste  for  such 
matters  has  all  vanished. 

This  however  is  not  all.  Habits  the 
most  debasing  are  frequently  formed  in 
companies  met  for  mere  chat  and  pastime. 
It  is  here  that  young  men  tenderly  raised, 
and  diligently  cautioned  against  all  un- 
worthy practices,  first  learn  to  use  vulgar 
language,  their  manners  become  corrupted, 
and  their  whole  character  debased.  Here 
is  also  imbibed  a  love  for  gaming,  which 
practiced  for  a  short  time  so  engrosses  the 
whole  man  as  to  wither  and  destroy  all 
taste  for  every  virtuous  pursuit,  however 
useful,  manly  or  praise-worthy.  Small 
games  come  first, — perhaps,  merely  for 
amusement,  to  while  away  the  tedious 
hours, — nor  does  any  one  dream  of  serious 
consequences.  How  little  do  such  know 
of  human  nature.  Habits  soon  become 
fixed,  and  hard  to  eradicate.  He  who 
plays  for  amusement,  in  a  short  time  be- 
comes a  proficient,  turns  his  skill  to  pecu- 
niary advantage,  and  ere  he  is  aware,  finds 


GAMBLING.  131 

himself  a  gambler.  Thus  the  youth  of 
much  promise — the  hope  of  doating  parents 
and  joy  of  his  friends,  is  unexpectedly  on 
the  downward  road,  and  in  a  few  years 
reaches  a  place  of  deep  and  irrecoverable 
infamy.  Such  habits  are  sure  to  poison 
every  virtuous  principle,  and  invariably 
blast  all  prospect  of  respectability  and  ex- 
cellence. The  danger  is  in  the  first  and 
apparently  innocent  stages,  as  is  the  case 
with  all  other  vices  by  which  the  young  and 
unwary  are  beguiled  of  their  simplicity  and 
innocence. 

In  some  cities  gambling  houses  have  in 
their  pay  persons  whose  sole  business  it  is 
to  decoy  young  men,  and  specially  strang- 
ers, into  those  places  of  ruin.  They  are 
at  first  invited  to  a  party,  and  a  sumptuous 
entertainment  is  provided.  The  unsuspect- 
ing youth  is  flattered  by  the  attentions  paid 
him.  Wine  and  other  more  potent  drinks 
are  passed  around,  and  the  intended  victim 
of  their  snares  is  treated  with  the  utmost 
courtesy.  When  the  potations  in  which 
they  have  freely  indulged  have  produced 


132  GAMBLING. 

the  desired  effect,  cards  and  other  games 
are  introduced,  and  the  one  they  intend  to 
fleece,  whom  they  call  a  "  flat"  is  permitted 
to  win  invariably  at  first.  He  is  thus  in- 
spired with  unbounded  confidence  in  his 
own  skill,  and  an  increased  passion  for 
play.  The  way  to  ruin  is  thus  made 
smooth  and  inviting,  and  all  obstacles  are 
removed.  He  seems  delighted  to  surpass 
others  in  his  new  employment,  and  his 
pockets  are  filled  with  ready  money.  But 
ere  he  is  aware  the  tide  turns,  and  all  is 
gone,  together  with  vast  amounts  that  he 
has  managed  to  borrow  of  his  friends.  In 
a  short  time  his  manliness  has  all  forsaken 
him,  and  he  soon  vanishes  from  respectable 
society,  and  is  found,  if  at  all,  in  the  most 
loathsome  dens  of  vice,  or  waiting  at  some 
ferry  for  odd  jobs,  or  the  servant  of  some 
dirty  bar-room,  paid  only  in  rum  and  the 
refuse  of  the  forsaken  table,  with  a  tap 
room  bed  for  repose  at  night. 

Says  a  sprightly  writer,  "  the  passion  for 
gambling  is  the  worst  that  can  possibly 
enter  the  human  heart.  I  hardly  ever  knew 


GAMBLING.  133 

a  man  who  had  once  yielded  to  it,  to  break 
away  from  the  strong  temptation.  It  seems 
to  seize  upon  him  with  the  grasp  of  death. 
The  victim  of  it  is  heyond  the  reach  of 
counsel.  It  is  vain  to  address  his  judgment, 
his  hopes,  or  his  fears.  He  may  be  a  kind 
hearted  man  by  nature,  but  it  does  no  good 
to  talk  to  him  about  his  wife  and  children  : 
he  loves  them,  perhaps,  although  this  in- 
fernal passion  generally  annihilates  the 
social  affections;  but  he  would  take  the 
last  crust  from  his  child's  mouth,  and  cast 
him  upon  the  unpitying  world,  sooner  than 
give  up  the  gratification  of  this  hellish  pas- 
sion. Why  !  it  is  stated,  and  probably  with 
truth,  that  the  late  aid-de-camp  of  Lord 
Hutchinson,  after  having  ruined  himself  by 
play,  cut  his  throat  in  a  fit  of  despair.  It 
happened,  however,  that  his  life  was  saved; 
and  after  some  weeks  he  recovered.  The 
first  place  he  went  to  after  he  was  allowed 
by  his  surgeon  to  go  out,  was  the  very 
gaming  house  where  he  had  lost  his  money 
and  formed  the  desperate  purpose  of  de- 
stroying himself.  Mr.  Grant,  who  has  paid 
12 


134  GAMBLING. 

a  good  deal  of  attention  to  this  subject, 
thinks  that  the  amount  of  money  that  is 
lost  in  the  different  gaming  houses  of  Lon- 
don, cannot  be  less  than  568,000,000  a  year. 
I  have  no  doubt  myself  that  the  sum  is 
much  greater.  But  this  degrading  and  hor- 
rible passion  is  not  confined  to  our  sex.  It 
prevails  to  an  enormous  extent  among  fash- 
ionable ladies  !  Many  is  the  husband  who 
has  been  embarrassed  most  deeply  by  the 
cards  of  his  wife." 

A  few  years  since,  I  witnessed  the  exe- 
cution of  a  man  for  murder.  When  under 
the  gallows  he  briefly  addressed  the  vast 
multitude  that  surrounded  him.  "  Young 
men/'  said  he,  "  you  wish  to  avoid  the 
horrid  end  to  which  I  have  come.  Then 
avoid  the  means  which  have  led  me  to  it. 
Do  you  inquire  what  they  were  ?  I  answer 
— first,  I  fell  into  idle  company,  and  to  pass 
away  time  cards  were  introduced.  Of  these 
I  entertained  the  greatest  horror,  and  for 
some  time  refrained  from  touching  them. 
Yet  I  did  not  abandon  my  companions. 
Had  I  done  this  I  should  have  been  safe. 


GAMBLING.  135 

By  suffering  myself  to  be  a  spectator  for  a 
time,  the  horror  for  the  practice  left  me,  and 
I  took  some  interest  in  the  parties.  By  this 
means  I  gained  some  knowledge  of  an  art 
to  which  I  was  before  a  total  stranger.  In 
a  short  time  I  was  induced  to  try  my  skill, 
and  was  soon  inducted  into  all  the  tricks  of 
a  business  which  was  formerly  the  object 
of  my  greatest  detestation.  My  history  is 
soon  told.  In  a  short  time  murder  had  riot 
half  the  horror  attached  to  it,  that  card 
playing  had  prior  to  my  witnessing  it." 
The  poor  fellow  ceased  to  speak — the  cap 
was  drawn — the  drop  fell,  and  he  was  in 
eternity.  So  much  for  idle  associations  and 
the  beginnings  of  evil. 

If  my  readers  will  pardon  me,  I  will  here 
introduce  a  case  recently  tried  before  the 
Criminal  Court  of  St.  Louis.  The  facts, 
though  published  in  several  periodicals, 
may  never  have  met  the  eye  of  many  who 
may  read  this  work.  And  if  they  have, 
they  should  be  matter  of  permanent  record, 
for  the  benefit  of  those  who  come  after  us. 


136  AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES. 


THE    ROAD   TO   RUIN. 

«  The  defendant  in  this  case,  (Augustus  V. 
Jones,)  was,  probably,  twenty-eight  years 
of  age,  but  wore  the  appearance  of  at  least 
thirty-five.  He  had  evidently  once  been  a 
fine  looking  man,  in  stature  he  was  some- 
thing over  six  feet,  and  his  strongly  marked 
features  and  prominent  forehead  gave  evi- 
dence of  more  than  ordinary  intellect.  But 
you  could  clearly  discover  that  he  had  be- 
come a  prey  to  the  monster  Intemperance — 
the  mark  of  the  beast  was  stamped  upon 
his  countenance,  which  gave  it  a  vivid  and 
unnatural  glare.  He  was  placed  in  the  box 
with  others  who  were  to  be  arraigned  upon 
the  indictments  preferred  against  them.  All 
the  others  had  plead  not  guilty,  (as  is  usual) 
and  a  day  was  set  for  their  trial.  The  de- 
fendant was  told  to  stand  up,  and  the  clerk 
read  to  him  the  indictment,  which  charged 
him  with  having,  on  the  10th  day  of  Au- 


AUGUSTUS   V.    JONES.  137 

gust,  passed  to  one  Patrick  Oneal  a  coun- 
terfeit bill  purporting  to  be  issued  by  the 
Second  Municipality  of  the  city  of  New 
Orleans,  for  the  sum  of  three  dollars,  and 
upon  being  asked  the  question,  guilty  or 
not  guilty  ?  he  replied  "guilty — guilty  !" — 
Then,  turning  to  the  court,  he  remarked 
that,  as  this  was  the  last  time  he  ever  expect- 
ed to  appear  in  court,  he  would  be  glad 
if  he  could  be  allowed  to  make  a  few  re- 
marks. The  Judge  told  him  to  proceed. — 
After  a  pause,  in  which  he  was  evidently 
endeavouring  to  calm  his  feelings,  he  pro- 
ceeded as  follows — 

May  it  please  the  Court — In  the  remarks 
I  shall  make  I  will  not  attempt  to  extenuate 
my  crime  or  ask  at  your  hands  any  sympa- 
thy in  passing  sentence  upon  me.  I  know 
that  I  have  violated  the  laws  of  my  coun- 
try, and  justly  deserve  punishment;  nor 
would  I  recall  the  past,  or  dwell  upon  the 
bitter  present,  for  my  own  sake.  A  wish 
to  do  good  for  others  is  my  only  motive. 

I  shall,  with  the  indulgence  of  the  court, 
give  a  brief  narrative  of  my  life,  with  a 


138  AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES. 

hope  that  those  young  men  around  me  may 
take  warning  by  it,  and  avoid  the  rock 
upon  which  I  have  split.  I  was  born  of 
respectable  parents,  in  the  State  of  New 
Jersey,  and  during  my  childhood  received 
every  attention  that  fond  parents  could  be- 
stow upon  an  only  son.  It  was  early  dis- 
covered that  I  had  a  fondness  for  books, 
and  my  father,  although  in  limited  circum- 
stances, determined  to  give  me  a  liberal 
education.  I  was  sent  to  a  high  school  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  such  was  my  pro- 
gress, that  at  twelve  years  of  age,  my  pre- 
ceptor declared  me  qualified  for  college,  and 
I  accordingly  entered  one  of  the  oldest  uni- 
versities of  the  country.  Here  I  so  dis- 
tinguished myself  that,  at  sixteen,  I  gradu- 
ated with  the  second  honours  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  returned  home  flushed  with  the 
brilliant  prospect  of  success  that  lay  before 
me.  I  soon  after  commenced  the  study  of 
law,  and  when  only  in  my  twentieth  year, 
I  obtained  license  to  practice. 

Acting  upon  the  advice  of  friends,  I  de- 
termined to  try  my  fortune  in  the  west.     I 


AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES.  139 

accordingly  arranged  my  affairs  for  depart- 
ure early  in  the  fall  of  1833.  I  will  not  de- 
tain you  with  an  account  of  my  separation 
from  those  I  held  most  dear — suffice  to  say, 
that  I  received  the  blessings  of  my  parents, 
and  in  return,  promised  faithfully  and 
honestly  to  avoid  all  bad  company,  as  well 
as  their  vices.  Had  I  kept  my  promise,  I 
should  have  been  saved  this  shame,  and 
then  free  from  the  load  of  guilt  that  hangs 
around  me  continually,  like  a  fiendish  vul- 
ture, threatening  to  drag  me  to  justice,  for 
crimes  as  yet  unrevealed.  But,  to  return,  I 
left  my  early  home,  where  all  had  been  sun- 
shine and  where  my  pathway  had  been 
strewed  with  flowers,  to  try  my  fortune 
among  strangers,  and  to  try  my  strength  in 
buffeting  the  storms  and  tempests  of  the 
world.  With  light  heart  I  looked  forward 
to  the  future ;  and  taking  the  usual  route  I 
soon  reached  Wheeling,  where  I  took  pas- 
sage on  a  boat  for  Louisville.  On  the  boat 
a  game  of  cards  was  proposed  for  amuse- 
ment, and  although  I  had  promised  faith- 
fully to  avoid  such  things,  still,  I  argued  to 


140  AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES. 

myself,  there  was  no  harm  in  playing  a 
game  for  amusement. 

Accordingly,  I  joined  the  party,  and  we 
kept  up  the  amusement  most  of  the  way 
down.  After  we  left  Cincinnati,  it  was 
proposed  to  bet  a  bit  a  game,  merely,  as  it 
was  said,  to  make  it  interesting.  My  first 
impression  was  to  leave  the  table,  but  I  was 
told  that  it  was  only  a  bit — that  I  could  not 
lose  more  than  one  or  two  dollars.  This 
argument  prevailed,  for  I  lacked  moral 
courage  to  do  what  was  right.  I  feared  my 
companions  would  say  I  was  stingy  of  a 
little  money.  Influenced  by  those  feelings, 
I  played ;  and  as  the  fates  would  have  it,  I 
won.  Before  we  reached  Louisville,  we 
had  twice  doubled  the  stake,  and  I  found 
my  luck  enabled  me  to  pay  my  passage  out 
of  my  winnings.  It  was  the  first  time  ever 
I  had  bet  money,  and  my  success  ruined 
me.  Again  I  played,  and  was  again  suc- 
cessful ;  and,  in  short,  I  continued  to  play 
for  amusement,  until  I  had  acquired  a  thirst 
for  gambling.  I  settled  in  a  thriving  village 
in  Tennessee,  and  commenced  the  practice 


AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES.  141 

of  my  profession  under  flattering  auspices, 
and  my  first  appearance  in  a  criminal  court 
was  highly  complimented,  and  I  soon  be- 
came known  throughout  the  circuit. — 
Things  went  on  thus  for  more  than  a  year, 
and  I  believed  myself  fairly  on  the  road  to 
fame  and  fortune.  I  occasionally  played 
cards;  but  I  consoled  myself  with  the  idea 
that  I  only  played  with  gentlemen  for 
amusement. 

One  night  I  accompanied  some  young 
men  to  a  gambling  shop,  arid  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  saw  a  Faro  Bank.  My 
companions  commenced  betting,  and  I  was 
induced  to  join  them,  although  I  did  not 
understand  the  game.  Again  I  played  with 
success;  and  when  we  left  the  house,  was 
more  than  two  hundred  dollars  winner. 
None  of  my  companions  had  been  fortu- 
nate, and  it  was  insisted  that  I  was  the 
lucky  man,  and  that  I  must  treat.  We  ac- 
cordingly repaired  to  my  room,  where  I 
ordered  wine,  and  before  we  broke  up  we 
were  all  deeply  intoxicated.  With  me  it 
was  the  first  time,  and  the  next  day  I  re- 


142  AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES. 

solved  that  I  would  never  play  cards  again. 
I  adhered  to  the  determination  for  nearly 
three  months,  when  I  yielded  to  the  entrea- 
ties of  my  dissipated  associates. 

I  now  played  with  varied  success,  and  in 
all  cases  found  an  excuse  for  resorting  to 
the  wine  bottle.  If  I  lost,  I  drank  to  drown 
sorrow  ;  if  I  won  I  treated  my  good  fortune. 
Thus  I  progressed  upon  my  downward 
course,  until  drinking  and  gambling  became 
my  chief  employments.  All  my  friends 
who  were  worth  preserving  abandoned  me, 
until  my  ,only  associates  were  drunkards 
and  gamblers,  when  almost  reduced  to 
want,  (for  I  had  left  off  business)  I  received 
a  letter  informing  me  of  the  death  of  rriy 
father — that  father  that  watched  over  my 
early  years — who  loved  me  so  tenderly. 
And  did  I  act  as  an  affectionate  child  ! 
No.  Vice  had  destroyed  the  human  feel- 
ings of  my  heart,  and  left  only  the  animal 
passions  and  appetites;  as  the  letter  con- 
tained a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars,  a 
part  of  my  poor  father's  hard  earnings,  I 
drowned  my  grief  that  night  in  Bacchanal- 


AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES.  143 

ian  revel,  and  in  a  few  days  I  was  again 
pennyless.  I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  every 
day  scenes  of  my  life,  which  were  such  as 
may  at  all  times  be  witnessed  at  any  of  the 
two  hundred  dram-shops  of  your  city, 
where  wretched  men  squander  the  little 
pittance  that  justly  belongs  to  their  suffering 
wives  and  children. 

But,  to  pass  on.  For  nearly  three  years 
I  have  been  a  drunken,  wandering  outcast. 
Six  months  ago,  I  received  a  letter  from  my 
dear  mother,  enclosing  $100,  and  informing 
me  that  she  was  fast  sinking  with  disease, 
and  entreating  with  all  a  mother's  feeling, 
to  come  home  and  see  her  before  she  died. 
For  a  lime  I  felt  the  appeal,  and  resolved  to 
comply  with  her  request;  and  accordingly 
took  passage  on  a  steamboat  for  that  pur- 
pose. For  two  days  I  refrained  from 
liquor  ;  but  my  thirst  became  insupportable 
— -at  length  my  appetite  overpowered  my 
better  feelings,  and  I  approached  the  bar 
and  demanded  liquid  fire.  I  was  soon  in- 
toxicated, when  I  madly  sought  the  gam- 
bler's table ;  and  before  the  boat  reached 


144  AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES. 

Louisville,  I  was  stript  of  every  cent.  Thus 
all  hopes  of  seeing  my  dying  mother  were 
cut  off,  I  remained  at  Louisville  several 
weeks,  in  which  time  I  learned  that  my 
mother  had  died,  and  that  her  last  breath 
was  spent  in  prayer  for  her  wretched  child. 

From  Louisville,  I  shipped  on  board  the 
steamer  Brazil,  as  a  deck  hand,  and  came 
to  this  place,  where  I  was  discharged  for 
drunkenness.  Let  every  young  man  reflect 
upon  this  picture.  I,  who  had  moved  in 
the  first  circles  of  society — had  been  the 
guest  of  distinguished  public  men,  and  a 
favorite  among  the  literati  of  our  country 
— was  now  turned  off  as  unfit  for  a  deck 
hand  on  a  steamboat — yet  intemperance 
had  done  this  much. 

I  loitered  about  the  city  for  several 
weeks,  and  was.  sometimes  engaged  in  post- 
ing up  the  books  of  some  dram  shop,  for 
which  1  was  paid  in  the  liquid  fire,  kept  for 
the  accommodation  of  customers.  One 
evening  I  fell  in  company  with  a  man  who 
has  lately  been  lodged  in  jail  for  passing 
counterfeit  money.  We  played  cards,  and 


AUGUSTUS    V.    JONES.  145 

I  won  from  him  the  three  dollar  bill  in  ques- 
tion. The  next  day  I  learned  it  was  coun- 
terfeit, and  did  not  offer  to  pass  it  for  seve- 
veral  days.  But  at  last  I  got  out  of  all  em- 
ployment. 1  had  no  other  money.  I  could 
meet  no  one  who  would  ask  me  to  drink. 
My  appetite  was  like  a  raging  fire  within 
me.  I  could  not  endure  it.  I  sought  a  dram 
shop — offered  the  bill — it  was  accepted  ; 
and  when  found  a  few  hours  after,  by  the 
officers  of  justice,  I  was  beastly  drunk. 

The  evidence  of  guilt  was  conclusive ; 
and  before  my  brain  was  clear  of  the  intoxi- 
cating fumes,  I  was  lodged  in  jail  to  await 
my  trial.  I  am  now  done.  I  have  not  de- 
tained the  Court  with  any  hope  or  wish  that 
clemency  would  be  extended  to  my  case. 
But  with  a  hope  that  my  example  may  be  a 
warning  to  other  young  men — that  those 
who  hear  me  may,  when  asked  to  play  a 
social  game  of  cards,  or  drink  a  social 
glass,  think  of  my  fate  and  refrain.  They 
may  feel  themselves  secure — they  may  be- 
lieve that  they  can  stop  when  they  please  ; 
but  let  them  remember  that  I  argued  thus 
13 


146  AUGUSTUS  v.  JONES. 

until  I  was  lost.  [Here  the  defendant  sunk 
down  and  appeared  to  be  very  much  affect- 
ed, and  for  a  few  moments  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  Court  House.] 

At  length  the  Judge,  who  is  as  much  dis- 
tinguished for  the  qualities  of  his  heart  as  he 
is  for  learning  as  a  Judge,  proceeded  in  a 
brief  but  appropriate  manner  to  pass  sen- 
tence upon  the  defendant,  putting  his  pun- 
ishment in  the  penitentiary  down  to  the 
shortest  time  allowed  by  law." 

By  all  that  is  sacred  and  lovely  in  manly 
character  and  moral  excellence,  as  you  re- 
gard your  present  standing  in  society  and 
indulge  the  hope  of  future  good,  let  me 
entreat  you  to  forbid  the  entrance  of  such 
temptations.  As  you  respect  your  parents 
and  friends,  and  wish  to  preserve  and 
maintain  the  worthy  reputation  of  your 
family.  As  you  desire  success  in  business, 
and  respectability  in  life,  have  no  fellowship 
with  the  gamester  on  a  large  or  small  scale. 
Be  he  poor  or  rich,  fashionable  or  rustic, 
his  way  is  dark,  a  curse  hangs  over  it,  and 
it  leads  directly  to  the  chambers  of  eternal 


PROFANITY.  147 

death.  Let  every  youth  study  to  show 
himself  approved  to  all  the  good  by  keep- 
ing out  of  his  way,  always  and  on  all  oc- 
casions, lest  he  share  in  the  miserable  cup 
of  which  he  has  to  drink,  and  be  cut  off 
as  the  gamester  always  is,  in  the  midst  of 
his  days. 

Profanity  is  also  a  crying  and  grievous 
evil  in  this  day.  Is  there  any  need  of  cau- 
tion against  this  most  vulgar  and  loathsome 
vice  ?  With  the  majority  I  trust  there  is 
not.  Yet  in  a  large  shop  or  place  of  busi- 
ness, there  are  frequently  found  some  who 
use  improper  language.  Its  daily  occur- 
rence allays  its  offensiveness,  and  then  care 
is  necessary  lest  the  same  habit  be  imbibed. 
You  are  horror  stricken  when  you  hear  an 
oath  come  fro.n  the  mouth  of  a  little  boy  in 
the  street.  Older  persons  are  affected  in  the 
same  way  on  hearing  it  from  you.  Nothing 
is  or  can  be  more  cisgusting.  Some  cox- 
combs think  it  manly  to  wish  their  com- 
panions in  hell,  and  profanely  to  use  the 
holy  Lame  of  God.  JBut  it  makes  them 
appear  superlatively  contemptible  to  all  but 


148  PROFANITY. 

vagabonds.  You  seldom  hear  an  oath  from 
any  one  who  has  any  claim  to  respectability. 
A  wise  and  inspired  man  hath  said,  "  evil 
communications  corrupt  good  manners." 
To  prove  the  truth  of  this,  ask  yourself,  did 
you  ever  hear  a  polite  man  swear.  I  will 
venture,  you  never  did.  He  may  have  been 
rich,  have  held  a  high  office,  but  like  whale 
meat,  he  was  coarse.  His  private  life  was 
low, and  he  abounded  in  "dirty  tricks."  A 
gentleman  will  not  use  profane  language. 
How  disgusting  it  is  to  hear  a  man  inter- 
lard every  sentence  with  an  oath — a  curse 
on  himself  or  some  one  else.  It  is  not 
decent,  nor  would  it  be  tolerated  in  good 
society.  If  it  is  deemed  an  insult  in  pre- 
sence of  ladies — why  is  it  not  equally  so  in 
that  of  genteel  men. 

If  you  have  contracted  such  an  indecent 
habit,  you  are  ruined  forever,  unless  it  be 
broken  immediately.  If  you  wish  to  go 
to  the  very  bottom  of  society,  and  then  to 
darkness  eternal,  do  choose  a  more  decent 
road.  One  not  quite  so  direct.  I  consider 
the  infamous  black  leg  a  gentleman  com- 


INFIDELITY.  149 

pared  with  the  profane  swearer,  as  the 
former  holds  man  and  his  laws  in  contempt, 
the  latter  God  and  his  fearful  thunder.  As 
you,  therefore,  regard  your  present  and  fu- 
ture welfare,  you  will  avoid  the  practice  of 
swearing. 

Youth  is  also  in  danger  from  the  wiles  of 
infidelity.  The  chamelion  hues  of  modem 
skepticism  are  so  various,  it  is  difficult  to 
furnish  you  with  a  description  sufficiently 
graphic  and  true  to  life.  Its  character  arid 
complexion  varies  with  the  causes  which 
give  it  birth  and  being.  No  man,  great  or 
small,  ancient  or  modern,  has  ever  attempt- 
ed  to  embody  or  give  it  substantial  form, 
and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  any  one 
can.  Its  advocates  deal  in  sophistry,  and 
spend  their  force  in  efforts  to  unsettle  the 
faith  of  the  orthodox,  rather  than  tell  us 
what  they  believe  themselves.  Indeed  their 
faith  is  a  general  and  acrimonious  system 
of  doubt.  Their  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures is  generally  superficial,  as  are  their 
other  attainments,  and  in  most  cases  they 
have  more  talk  than  brains.  Ridicule  is 


150  INFIDELITY. 

their  choice  and  deadliest  weapon,  which 
has  been  too  often  wielded  successfully  in 
slaying  the  pious  resolutions  of  the  young 
and  incautious.  The  difficulties  thrown 
in  the  way  of  a  scriptural  faith  by  the 
heroes  of  infidelity,  have  been  a  thousand 
times  answered,  but  the  lilliputian  skeptics 
of  modern  times  affect  to  forget  the  answers, 
whilst  with  an  iron  recollection  they  hold  fast 
to  the  difficulties.  In  their  attacks  upon  the 
venerable  structure  of  Christianity  and  di- 
vine revelation,  skeptics  have  learned  that 
it  is  much  easier  to  deny  than  to  disprove. 

Infidelity  has  often  arrogated  to  itself  all 
the  learning  and  talent,  the  wisdom  and  tact 
of  society,  while  it  has  conceded  that  Chris- 
tianity has  prevailed  among  the  weak  and 
illiterate.  A  claim  of  this  kind  cannot  pos- 
sibly affect  any  except  the  most  ignorant 
in  community,  as  nothing  can  be  more  un- 
true. The  master  spirits  in  the  records  of 
literary  fame,  have  been  found  among  the 
most  devout  worshippers  of  the  God  of  the 
bible.  And  although  I  do  not  intend  to 
furnish  a  list  of  names  in  proof  of  this  as- 


INFIDELITY.  151 

sertion,  I  may  ask — where  in  this  contro- 
versy stood  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who  after  he 
had  finished  his  astronomical  studies,  sat 
down  and  composed  a  commentary  on  the 
New  Testament.  Locke  and  Bacon  were 
devout  believers,  with  almost  all  others 
whose  literary  labors  have  long  blessed 
mankind.  And  not  to  go  abroad,  let  each 
reader  ask  himself  who  they  are,  who  have 
most  benefitted,  enlightened,  and  favored 
his  own  land  ?  Who  have  planned,  reared 
and  endowed  the  colleges  and  institutions 
of  learning  which  now  grace  our  country, 
and  at  which  most  of  the  great  men  of  this 
nation  received  their  power  of  usefulness  ? 
Where  is  one  such  institution  that  was 
gotten  up  by  infidels  ?  If  their  principles 
are  good  why  are  they  not  also  useful  ? 
And  I  would  entreat  every  youth  to  cast 
his  eye  about  him  in  society,  and  look  for 
those  who  are  most  active  in  doing  good. 
Who  most  efficiently  help  the  poor  ?  Who 
build  and  endow  asylums  for  the  desolate 
widow  and  forsaken  orphan  ?  Are  they 
not  those  whose  faith  in  the  verities  of 


152  INFIDELITY. 

divine  revelation  is  their  principal  prompter 
to  such  deeds  of  goodness  ?  They  expect  no 
reward  here,  but  look  for  it  at  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  just.  In  whose  steps  do  you 
wish  to  tread,  whose  virtues  do  you  covet 
to  emulate? 

Sin  and  infidelity  mutually  depend  upon 
each  other.  Do  away  one,  and  the  other 
will  no  where  exist.  As  long  however  as 
men  love  vice,  and  the  practice  of  sin  is 
pleasant,  and  infidelity  will  excuse  or  pal- 
liate its  enormity,  admirers  it  will  have, 
though  the  present  consequences,  be  ig- 
norance and  crime,  and  the  future,  eternal 
death.  The  natural  desire  of  all  men  is  to 
be  free  of  restraint  and  responsibility.  This 
is  a  fruitful  source  of  skepticism.  But  the 
principal  danger  to  young  persons,  is  the 
society  of  semi-infidels,  popularly  called 
free  thinkers — into  which  they  may  be 
thrown,  not  from  choice  but  the  force  of 
circumstances.  And  by  hearing  their  daily 
conversation—- sneers  at  religion,  (which 
they  call  superstition  or  bigotry,)  or  foolish 
sophistry — falsely  termed  argument — they 


INFIDELITY.  153 

become  warped  and  biassed,  until  judgment 
loses  its  balance.  Being  also  deficient  in 
the  corrective  power,  which  general  know- 
ledge and  reading  imparts,  they  are  fatally 
led  into  the  region  of  doubt  and  disbelief. 

To  their  shame  be  it  spoken,  men  of  an 
unsettled  faith — having  no  hope  in  God 
themselves  find  their  chief  pleasure  in  trying 
to  unsettle  the  faith  of  others.  Those  young- 
er than  they,  and  who  for  want  of  know- 
ledge, experience,  or  skill  in  argument,  are 
unable  to  refute  their  shameless  sophistries, 
are  generally  selected  as  their  victims.  I 
need  not  pause  to  remark  on  the  baseness 
of  such  a  course.  Such  do  the  work  of 
their  master,  and  are  the  principal  agents  of 
his  Satanic  majesty.  Barely  to  name  them 
is  I  trust  quite  sufficient  to  guard  you  against 
their  society,  when  practicable.  I  once 
knew  a  case  of  this  kind.  A  learned  and 
gray-headed  infidel,  boarded  with  a  family 
where  there  was  a  pious  mechanic.  Both 
eat  at  the  same  table,  and  were  on  the  most 
friendly  terms.  So  far  all  was  well  enough. 
But  the  zealous  skeptic,  wished  to  make  a 


154  INFIDELITY. 

proselyte,  and  therefore  was  ever  and  anon 
thro  wing  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  honest 
mechanic's  faith.  This  was  borne  with,  for 
a  season.  Yet  the  unlettered  believer  though 
unshaken  in  his  opinions  by  all  that  he  heard, 
was  desirous  of  enjoying  his  own  tenets  in 
peace.  He  therefore  made  his  circumstances 
known  to  his  pastor,  which  soon  cured  the 
evil,  as  the  minister  requested  an  interview 
under  circumstances  in  which  the  faith  of 
each  might  be  tested  by  rational  argument. 
This  of  course  was  declined  by  the  un- 
believer, as  he  feared  the  consequences  of  a 
contest  with  one  who  was  his  equal  in  in- 
formation. Thus  the  matter  ended  and  the 
faithful  Christian  was  afterward  allowed  to 
pursue  his  course  without  molestation. 

How  strange  it  is  that  infidelity  should 
be  so  eager  to  make  proselytes.  Surely  it 
must  be  a  fiend  that  hardens  and  destroys 
the  heart.  It  seeks  to  rob  mourners  of  their 
only  consolation,  the  unfortunate  of  their 
chief  and  only  solace,  the  sick  and  dying  of 
their  only  hope,  to  unbind  all  the  ties  of 
society,  and  spread  ruin  and  a  heartless 


INFIDELITY.  155 

depravity  with  all  its  chilling  influences 
through  community.  Christianity  is  repre- 
sented as  having  shed  rivers  of  blood,  while 
all  the  candid  know  that  want  of  Chris- 
tianity— party  spirit ;  has  caused  all  the 
evils  ever  imputed  by  infidels  to  Christianity 
itself.  While  infidelity  and  atheism,  have 
within  the  memory  of  men  now  living— in 
the  emporium  of  boasted  refinement,  cut 
off  thousands  of  the  virtuous,  the  aged,  the 
youthful,  the  humble,  the  noble,  the  mother, 
the  maid  and  even  the  infant.  And  then 
like  a  furious  serpent  having  no  more  to 
bite,  it  turned  and  fanged  itself. 

All  this  has  infidelity  done,  and  yet  the 
half  is  not  told.  Need  more  be  said,  to 
warn  all  who  read  these  pages  against  its 
destructive  snares.  Mental  dissipation  too, 
has  made  many  an  unbeliever.  Whilst 
deep  research  into  the  mysteries  of  nature, 
and  godliness,  and  a  general  knowledge  ef 
the  history  of  mankind,  has  cured  thousands 
of  their  previous  hallucinations.  Another 
strong  argument  in  favor  of  intellectual 
cultivation. 


156  INFIDELITY. 

I  have  frequently  thought  it  must  be 
exceedingly  difficult  for  the  skeptic,  and 
downright  infidel,  to  live  happily  in  society 
as  matters  now  are.  He  cannot  get  a  man 
to  go  into  business  with  him,  if  his  senti- 
ments are  known,  unless  it  be  a  man  as 
careless  or  unbelieving  as  himself.  He 
cannot  go  to  church  where  others  love  to 
be ;  for  he  does  not  believe  the  doctrines 
there  taught,  and  if  he  does  venture  oc- 
casionally to  be  found  there  with  the  multi- 
tude, he  gets  excited  with  rage  before  he 
leaves,  so  that  it  is  a  torment,  instead  of  a 
comfort  to  him.  He  cannot  mix  in  the 
society  of  virtuous  ladies,  they  spurn  and 
avoid  his  company  as  they  would  a  pesti- 
lence. But  few  ladies  are  skeptical  in  their 
notions.  It  does  not  suit  them,  being  far 
too  vulgar  and  gross  in  its  character,  to 
make  proselytes  among  them.  They  are 
generally  afraid  of  it,  and  well  they  may 
be.  Christianity  has  done  all  for  them. 
Where  this  is  not  they  do  the  work  of  the 
field  and  house,  both,  while  the  men  like  lazy 
lubbers,  sit  and  look  on,  or  bask  in  the  sun 
in  careless  inaction. 


LIGHT  READING.  157 

The  Christian  religion  is  therefore  dear  to 
females,  because  it  has  placed  them,  where 
God  and  nature  intended  they  should  be. 
It  has  ennobled,  educated  and  exalted  them. 
Well  may  they  hate  the  very  appearance  of 
that  which  by  possibility,  should  it  prevail, 
might  deprive  them  of  their  natural  place 
and  again  degrade  them  so,  they  should  be 
viewed  as  beasts  of  burden.  I  do  not  slan- 
der infidelity,  though  I  thus  speak,  but 
utter  a  plain  truth  which  the  history  of 
mankind  fully  proves.  Is  it  not  meet  then, 
that  you  should  be  cautioned  against  im- 
bibing its  insidious  poison.  Be  careful  of 
your  society,  what  books  you  read,  and 
what  notions  you  adopt  in  early  life,  and 
you  will  be  comparatively  safe. 

Light  reading,  is  also  becoming  an  evil 
of  some  magnitude,  by  amusing  the  pas- 
sions it  is  deadening  and  stnpifying  the 
conscience.  Unbelievers  would  by  the  force 
of  depravity,  be  much  more  numerous  than 
they  now  are  if  men  had  not  consciences  to 
arouse  them  to  study  the  Scriptures,  and 
lead  to  meditation  on  divine  things.  What- 
14 


158  LIGHT  READING. 

ever  therefore  so  amuses  and  lulls,  as  to  do 
away  the  force  of  moral  feeling,  effectually 
hardens  the  heart,  and  thus  disarms  con- 
science of  its  tremendous  power.  The 
consequence  is,  religion  is  at  first  treated  as 
a  light  and  unimportant  matter,  and  after- 
ward reviled.  Nor  have  I  much  more  faith 
in  religious  light  works,  so  called.  Their 
authors  have  no  doubt  meant  well.  They 
hoped  to  displace  those  of  a  worse  charac- 
ter. Of  such  motive  I  do  not  complain,  but 
the  policy  is  at  least  doubtful.  It  is  catering 
to  a  morbid  appetite,  which  should  be  sub- 
dued, not  supplied  and  fed.  The  plain 
truths  of  religion  should  be  taught  in  a  plain 
and  Scriptural  way.  Both  learning  and 
piety,  have  suffered  from  this  perverted 
taste  for  works  of  fiction  and  fancy.  Study 
has  thereby  become  too  superficial,  and 
taste  for  close  thinking,  in  many  cases,  lost 
altogether. 

He  who  would  make  a  great  man,  or  even 
a  good  and  useful  one  must  think,  and  those 
books  are  always  best  which  make  him 
think  most.  Reading  alone  is  not  study.  To 


AMUSEMENTS.  159 

study  is  to  read  and  analyze,  examine,  ar- 
range, compare  and  collect  evidence  to  sus- 
tain or  refute  the  matter  under  investigation, 
so  that  it  may  take  its  place  among  things 
admitted  or  rejected.  He  therefore  who 
would  wish  his  mind  to  be  of  the  right  cast, 
his  moral  standing  enviable,  and  his  religious 
sentiments  sound  and  trustworthy,  must 
read  those  works,  and  pursue  such  studies 
as  tend  to  form  such  character.  If  light 
works  are  read,  it  should  be  as  dessert  is 
eaten,  after  the  more  strengthening  food  has 
been  used.  Then  it  is  done  merely  for  re- 
laxation or  the  recreation  of  the  mental  fac- 
ulties. 

I  must  not  neglect  to  caution  you  to  be 
on  your  guard  also,  against  the  bewitching 
amusements  of  large  cities  and  dense  popu- 
lations. That  of  the  theatre  perhaps  is  the 
most  destructive  to  morals  and  virtue,  there- 
fore I  will  give  it  greatest  prominence.  The 
danger  to  be  apprehended  from  this  source 
to  young  persons  is  truly  startling.  I  am 
really  at  a  loss  to  know  in  what  terms  to 
speak  of  it,  that  my  remarks  may  be  useful. 


160  THEATRES. 

To  many  the  temptation  is  indeed  great. 
Nor  can  this  be  a  matter  of  wonder,  when 
the  splendor  of  the  edifices,  the  decorations, 
the  music,  skill  of  the  actors,  and  all  the 
fascinations  of  the  place  are  taken  into  ac- 
count. Add  to  this  the  puffs  of  almost 
every  editor,  the  large  play-cards  that  ob- 
trude upon  our  vision  at  almost  every  corner 
of  the  street,  pass  where  we  will,  and  the 
attendance  of  fashion,  gaiety  and  beauty, 
nearly  every  night  in  the  week  for  a  whole 
season.  To  the  aged  and  sober  all  this  may 
hold  forth  nothing  at  all  inviting.  But  with 
the  young  it  is  far  otherwise.  Naturally 
fond  of  company — their  spirits  always  high, 
they  are  apt  to  disrelish  that  which  does  not 
thrill  them  with  excitement.  The  conductors 
of  theatres,  fully  aware  of  this,  try  to  make 
the  most  of  it.  Hence  the  imposing  char- 
acter of  their  bills,  abounding  with  promises 
of  great  sport,  buffoonery,  clownish  tricks, 
and  a  thousand  other  nameless  follies,  at 
which  a  wise  man  would  blush. 

A  young  man  who  yields  himself  to  the 
fascinating  power  of  such  temptations,  is  as 


THEATRES.  161 

good  as  ruined.  Unless  his  income  is  large, 
the  expense  of  attendance  upon  theatres, 
will  be  found  to  drain  his  pockets  of  all  his 
ready  change,  and  thereby  occasion  him 
much  inconvenience,  to  say  the  least  of  it. 
But  in  a  few  years  he  will  wish  for  the 
money  thus  uselessly  thrown  away,  to  aid 
him  in  starting  business.  If  he  has  now 
more  than  his  immediate  wants  call  for,  it 
should  be  duly  taken  care  of  and  preserved 
for  future  necessities.  I  believe,  however, 
the  presumption  generally  is,  that  those  who 
habitually  frequent  theatres  soon  become 
moneyless.  The  habit  once  formed  and 
appetite  fixed,  it  must  be  gratified  at  any 
hazard.  Money  must  be  had  honestly  if 
possible — dishonestly  if  necessary.  Had  it 
must  be,  if  the  merchant's  desk  has  to  sup- 
ply it.  The  confession  of  numerous  juvenile 
offenders  and  reports  of  the  police  in  all 
large  cities,  shows  that  in  a  majority  of 
cases,  the  temptation  to  steal  was  induced 
by  the  habit  and  desire  of  attending  theatres. 
Such  a  taste  once  contracted,  and  a  man 
will  do  almost  any  thing,  as  the  moral 
11* 


162  THEATRES. 

checks  and  restraints  which  before  governed 
him  are  done  away. 

The  time  which  they  are  the  means  of 
destroying,  is  also  worthy  of  consideration. 
We  have  before  alluded  to  the  importance 
of  time  to  persons  in  the  morning  of  their 
days.  Time  is  never  wasted  with  impunity. 
It  is  a  valuable  which  cannot  be  stored  up, 
as  it  is  sparingly  dealt  out  to  every  man. 
Theatres  generally  open  at  7  o'clock,  and 
continue  until  11  or  12  o'clock.  Four 
hours  are  thus  devoted  to  folly  and  child- 
ish play.  If  no  other  evil  could  be  named, 
this  total  loss  of  time  should  deter  every 
youth  from  attendance  at  such  places.  That 
much  time  each  day  spent  in  labor,  would 
soon  give  a  man  competence,  if  the  product 
were  carefully  saved.  If  spent  in  reading 
and  study,  the  world  would  soon  feel  his 
influence.  In  fact  it  amounts  to  one  quarter 
of  a  man's  active  life,  if  carried  through 
the  whole  year. 

But  the  moral  effect  of  such  amusements 
is  most  disastrous.  The  testimony  of  all 
ages  and  all  nations  pays  a  full  tribute  to 


THEATRES.  163 

this  truth.  In  the  neighborhood,  or  within 
the  walls  of  each  theatre,  there  is  always 
found  a  refectory,  where  are  exposed  label- 
led canisters  of  all  sorts  of  liquor.  Temp- 
tations to  indulge  the  appetite  are  held  out 
on  every  side.  The  company,  the  amuse- 
ment, the  hilarity,  all  aid  in  overcoming  the 
power  of  resistance,  and  many  a  man  has 
found  by  experience  that  the  only  way  to 
resist  successfully  was  to  stay  away.  I 
have  spoken  of  the  company  frequenting 
these  earthly  hells.  It  is  well  known  that 
no  theatre  could  long  exist  unless  free  tickets 
were  given  to  abandoned  females,  or  they 
were  admitted  in  some  way.  They  attract 
more  than  the  actors  or  the  showy  play- 
cards.  It  has  been  well  termed  a  house  of 
assignation,  to  which  resort  the  abandoned 
of  both  sexes.  What  young  man  therefore, 
who  pretends  to  good  moral  character  dare 
attend  theatres,  unless  in  disguise  ?  I  marvel 
— it  is  a  matter  which  excites  in  me  perfect 
wonder, — how  any  parent  can  consent  to 
allow  his  son  just  ripening  into  manhood, 
to  visit  such  a  place.  I  consider  it,  and  sad 


164  THEATRES. 

experience  has  proved  it  in  thousands  of 
cases  to  be  the  direct  road  to  ruin.  I  never 
attended  a  theatre  once  in  my  life,  but  I 
have  watched  with  feeling  interest  the  down- 
ward course  of  those  who  have,  and  there- 
fore here  raise  my  warning  voice  to  all 
young  men,  which  I  hope  they  will  heed 
before  iniquity  prove  their  ruin. 

Nothing  has  yet  been  said  concerning  the 
representations  there  witnessed,  nor  of  the 
moral  character  of  the  actors  themselves. 
Into  this  I  do  not  wish  to  enter.  But  I  be- 
lieve it  may  be  safely  asserted,  that  there  is 
no  young  gentleman  of  standing  but  would 
spurn  the  society  of  those  in  the  day  time, 
at  whom  he  loves  to  stare  and  laugh  at 
night.  And  it  is  a  problem  which  the  moral 
portion  of  community  will  never  be  able  to 
solve,  how  ladies  of  taste,  modesty  and  re- 
finement ; — ladies  whose  faces  are  taught  to 
crimson  at  the  least  indelicate  suggestion  in 
company,  can  sit  for  an  hour  surrounded  by 
young  gentlemen,  gazing  at  the  most  indeli- 
cate antics,  and  half  naked  form  of  one  of 
their  own  sex,  imported  from  another  coun- 


THEATRES.  165 

try.  Were  they  to  see  her  in  such  'undress* 
in  the  street,  they  would  throw  their  eyes 
down  in  an  instant,  nor  allow  the  young 
gentlemen  at  their  side  to  know  they  had 
noticed  her.  Yet — glaring  inconsistency, 
and  suspicious  hypocrisy,  they  can  gape  at 
her  in  the  theatre  without  a  blush.  Let  no 
young  lady  pretend  to  delicacy,  who  can  sit 
unmoved  by  a  sense  of  shame,  and  see  such 
indecent  exposures.  Mothers,  too,  who 
cannot  but  feel  desirous  their  daughters 
should  grow  up  in  possession  of  the  most 
virtuous  principles,  and  learn  to  scorn  a  low 
and  mean  thought,  are  sometimes  seen  sit- 
ting side  by  side  with  them,  joining  in  the 
general  laugh,  when  they  ought  to  blush. 
But  as  they  sow  they  must  reap,  nor  will 
the  moral  part  of  community  (however  they 
may  feel  toward  the  daughters)  pity  such 
mothers  if  their  much  loved  and  tenderly 
cherished  ones  become  a  ruin.  How  can 
they  expect  otherwise  ?  "  Plays,"  says 
Plato,  "  raise  the  passions  and  pervert  the 
use  of  them,  and  of  consequence  are  dan- 
gerous to  morality."  Aristotle  says,  "  the 


166  THEATRES. 

seeing  of  plays  and  comedies  should  be  for- 
bidden to  young  people,  until  age  and  disci- 
pline have  made  them  proof  against  de- 
bauchery." And  Tacitus  says,  "the  Ger- 
man women  were  guarded  against  danger 
and  preserved  their  purity,  by  having  no 
play  houses  among  them." 

To  these  I  need  not  add  another  testimony 
in  proof  of  the  evil  tendency  and  ruinous 
results  of  the  stage.  He  who  would  not 
hear  these  and  be  wise,  would  not  stay  his 
course  of  folly,  though  death  and  eternal 
retribution  stared  him  full  in  the  face.  All 
your  studies,  all  your  wisdom,  all  your 
other  virtues  will  fail  to  make  you  what  you 
ought,  and  what  you  desire  to  be,  if  you 
yield  to  the  seductive  snares  of  this  temp- 
tation. Keep  out  of  its  way,  nor  select 
your  associates  from  among  those  who  love 
theatrical  misrepresentations. 

And  if  this  book  shall  chance  to  fall  into 
the  hands  of  a  young  lady,  let  me  warn  her 
to  look  well  to  the  habits  of  the  young  gen- 
tlemen who  proffers  her  his  hand.  Does  he 
habitually  attend  theatres — then  are  his 


DISOBEDIENCE    TO    PARENTS.  167 

morals  impure  and  grievously  tainted.  So 
much  so,  that  it  will  be  difficult  for  him  to 
make  a  faithful  husband.  Some  vices  seem 
to  stand  alone,  others  to  affect  and  mar  the 
whole  man.  This,  with  its  attendant  cir- 
cumstances, is  of  the  latter  class.  He  who 
has  been  much  at  these  places,  has  also 
been  in  the  vilest  company,  and  after  that 
it  is  next  to  impossible  for  him  to  love  a 
wife  as  he  ought.  Many  young  ladies  may 
but  little  heed  these  remarks,  and  fondly 
suffer  themselves  to  be  attached  to  a  foolish 
fop,  hoping  that  a  few  years  will  make  him 
steady.  Vain  hope — if  he  has  wandered 
out  of  the  way  of  understanding,  he  gene- 
rally "  remains  in  the  congregation  of  the 
dead." 

As  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  act  the 
part  of  a  monitor,  and  have  been  urging 
such  cautions  as  I  have  deemed  important, 
suffer  me  in  addition  to  what  has  been  al- 
ready said,  to  advise  you  to  guard  against 
disobedience  to  parents — a  sin  which  I 
believe  to  be  one  of  the  most  heinous  in 


168  DISOBEDIENCE    TO   PARENTS. 

the  sight  of  God.  Nor  is  it  otherwise  in 
that  of  all  wise  and  virtuous  men.  Parental 
government  and  control  is  a  fixed  and 
sacred  ordinance  of  Jehovah,  never  disre- 
garded with  impunity.  Persecution  against 
religion  has  been  said,  to  be  the  last  crime 
that  the  Divine  Being  would  fully  pardon. 
1  rank  disobedience  to  parents  with  it.  Do- 
mestic order  is  the  soul  of  society.  And 
had  not  the  Creator  of  men  protected  it  by 
His  special  authority,  His  work  would  have 
been  imperfect.  With  reverence  do  I  say 
this,  and  with  firmness  do  I  believe  it.  But 
it  is  not  left  unguarded.  The  command  is 
imperious,  "  children,  obey  your  parents  in 
all  things,  for  this  is  right."  The  first  com- 
mandment with  a  promise  is  recorded  in  its 
favor,  and  long  life  it  is  declared  shall  re- 
sult from  it.  While  early  death,  and  all 
the  woes  ever  visited  upon  crime,  may  be 
confidently  looked  for  and  expected  in  all 
cases  of  disobedience.  I  know  an  old  gen- 
tleman now  residing  in  this  city,  who  has 
reached  nearly  his  ninetieth  year — who 


DISOBEDIENCE  TO  PARENTS.  169 

says,  and  firmly  believes,  that  his  life  is 
prolonged  because  of  his  strict  obedience 
and  faithful  attention  to  his  parents. 

I  believe  with  him,  though  I  may  thus 
expose  myself  to  the  charge  of  fanaticism. 
Let  the  history  of  every  man  who  lives  to 
advanced  age,  be  examined  in  the  light  of 
this  doctrine  and  it  will  be  found  true.  All 
general  rules  are  said  to  require  exceptions, 
but  I  doubt  whether  any  need  be  demanded 
here.  The  question  may  rest  upon  its  own 
merits  and  be  tested  by  matter  of  fact. 
Whenever,  therefore,  I  see  a  disobedient 
and  unkind  child,  at  whatever  age,  1  always 
judge  that  he  will  run  a  short  race  and  die 
a  miserable  death.  Such  do  not  generally 
die  in  the  ordinary  way.  In  most  cases  the 
Divine  Being  vindicates  his  truth  by  putting 
a  mark  upon  them  in  life  and  in  death. 
Many  whom  I  have  been  called  to  visit  in 
their  affliction,  when  I  have  remarked  upon 
its  singularity  of  type,  have  replied — it  is 
all  because  of  disobedience  to  my  parents. 
The  Judge  of  the  universe  never  holds  him 
guiltless  who  disregards  parental  law  and 
15 


170  AN  AWFUL  EXAMPLE. 

authority.  He  may  triumph  for  a  while, 
and  think  all  is  well,  but  a  fearful  plague 
is  in  his  dwelling,  and  although  it  may  long 
remain  concealed,  it  shall  break  out  some 
time  and  give  him  more  pain  than  all  the 
other  misfortunes  of  his  life  put  together. 

Community  has  recently  been  shocked  by 
the  report  of  an  awful  tragedy  in  a  neigh- 
bouring city.  Murder  has  been  perpetrated 
under  the  most  revolting  circumstances  in 
cold  blood.  To  the  transaction,  or  any 
facts  connected  with  it,  there  is  no  occasion 
to  call  your  attention,  as  you  are  acquainted 
with  them  already.  But  my  purpose  is 
rather  to  look  at  the  man  who  is  said  to 
have  committed  it.  It  is  asserted  that  John 
C.  Colt,  apparently  a  fine  specimen  of  a 
well  proportioned  man,  was  guilty  of  the 
foul  deed.  What  could  have  prepared  him 
for  so  bloody  and  unnatural  an  act?  for 
such  crimes  are  never  committed  without 
due  preparation.  The  ruling  and  reigning 
sin  of  his  whole  life  has  been  disobedience 
arid  insubordination.  This  has  character- 
ized him  from  his  childhood  upwards.  This 


DISOBEDIENCE  TO  PARENTS.  171 

says  a  periodical,  "is  the  germ  whose 
growth  has  been  so  bitter.  His  whole 
course  has  been  marked  by  self  will,  break- 
ing through  all  the  common  restraints  of 
the  family,  of  the  school  room,  of  the  count- 
ing-house, of  social  life,  and  the  laws  of 
God.  John  C.  Colt  has  been  for  fourteen 
years  a  voluntary  exile  from  the  parental 
roof.  Let  the  child  who  will  not  submit  to 
be  checked  and  managed,  tremble  for  the 
end  of  his  own  career  ;  and  let  the  parent 
tremble  for  the  child,  who  cannot  be  made 
to  yield  to  just  authority,  and  let  him  never 
dare  to  hope  that  the  youth  whom  he  can- 
not control,  will  learn  to  control  himself  and 
curb  his  own  wild  passions." 

I  believe  it  to  be  utterly  impossible  for 
the  ungovernable  and  disobedient  child  ever 
to  prosper.  The  advice  and  judgment  of 
parents  should  be  respected,  not  only  by 
those  under  age,  but  in  all  after  life.  Legal 
obligation  may  cease  at  a  definite  age,  but 
natural  obligation  never.  Propriety  will 
forbid  the  child  to  contradict  and  contend 


172  POLITICAL  STRIFE. 

with  the  parent  at  any  age,  or  period  of 
life.  And  though  the  parent  may  be  in  the 
wrong,  and  therefore,  the  child  may  feel 
compelled  to  differ  with  him,  silence  or  the 
most  tender  remarks  should  characterize  his 
course.  Even  a  drunken  parent  should 
receive  the  respect  of  his  children  and  the 
utmost  tenderness  of  treatment,  at  least 
with  all  such  as  wish  for  long  life  and  to  see 
good  days. 

Another  evil  against  which  you  should 
be  on  your  guard  is  the  mania  of  political 
strife.  To  take  a  proper  interest  in  the 
affairs  of  your  country  is  required  of  you 
as  good  citizens.  But  in  doing  that  it  most 
certainly  is  not  necessary  that  you  become 
a  violent  partizan,  and  heedlessly  follow 
the  dictation  of  party  leaders,  whose  prin- 
cipal stimulant  is  the  hope  of  gain.  You 
can  cast  your  vote  according  to  the  dictate 
of  an  enlightened  juclgment,and  then  quietly 
retire  to  the  duties  of  your  profession.  This 
is  quite  proper,  most  certainly  right,  and  the 
duty  of  every  man.  But  every  man  must 


SAMUEL  DREW.  173 

take  care  how  he  meddles  with  political 
affairs,  as  it  is  one  of  the  most  engrossing 
matters  known  in  any  country.  Samuel 
Drew,  the  Metaphysician,  was  once  in  the 
shoe  business,  but  by  some  means  became 
deeply  interested  in  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment. He  says  of  himself,  that  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  spending  the  principal  portion 
of  the  day  among  his  political  friends,  dis- 
cussing affairs  most  interesting  to  such  men, 
and  in  the  evening  he  usually  returned  to  his 
shop  and  worked  very  late  at  night  to  re- 
deem lost  time.  On  one  occasion  of  the  kind 
a  boy  passed,  and  tapping  at  his  window 
cried  out,  "  ha — you  play  all  day  and  work 
all  night."  This  Mr.  Drew  admitted  to  be 
the  best,  and  kindest  reproof  he  ever  re- 
ceived. It  changed  his  whole  course  of 
life.  From  that  time  he  resolved  to  cease 
being  a  politician,  and  take  care  for  himself. 
Thus  commenced  his  career  of  improve- 
ment which  continued  until  death,  and  has 
placed  his  name  among  those  whose  me- 
mory shall  never  perish.  Had  he  continued 
15* 


1  74  EXPENSE  OF  POLITICS. 

a  politician,  his  business  would  have  wast- 
ed away  through  neglect,  his  strong  mind 
would  never  have  been  brought  out,  nor 
his  real  greatness  have  been  known  to  man- 
kind. 

He  who  suffers  himself  to  fall  into  the 
political  current  knows  not  where  it  will 
carry  him.  His  motives  may  be  pure 
enough  in  the  outset,  and  his  morals  may 
be  good,  but  associating  with  the  vulgar, 
spending  hours  together  in  the  midst  of 
dense  crowds,  and  sometimes  in  bar-rooms 
too,  he  must  have  more  stability  and  firm- 
ness, than  ordinarily  falls  to  the  lot  of  mor- 
tals, if  both  his  principles  and  morals  do  not 
give  way.  Industrious  habits  are  also  in 
great  danger  from  such  associations.  Who 
ever  feels  like  work  on  the  day  following  a 
night  of  merriment  and  outrageous  hilarity 
occasioned  by  party  triumph  ?  That  day 
is  generally  lost.  If  that  were  all,  it  would 
be  a  small  matter,  but  it  is  not.  Expenses 
increase,  and  income  diminishes,  as  this 
fearful  mania  drives  its  victim  forward  in 


OFFICE-SEEKERS.  175 

the  road  to  poverty  and  ruin.  His  business 
is  finally  given  up,  and  to  obtain  subsistence 
he  sues  for  a  petty  office  and  is  successful 
in  his  application.  For  a  season  all  seems 
to  go  on  swimmingly,  but  ere  he  is  aware 
the  tables  are  turned,  his  office  is  taken 
from  him,  given  to  another,  and  he  is  sent 
adrift  to  provide  for  himself.  What  can  he 
do,  he  has  lost  his  business  habits  and  his 
character  for  good  citizenship  ;  he  "  cannot 
dig,  and  to  beg  he  is  ashamed."  There  is 
one  resource  yet  left  him, — poor  fellow, — 
one  business,  if  it  be  lawful  to  call  it 
such, — he  can  keep  a  filthy  grog-shop,  and 
get  a  scanty  subsistence  by  filching  fips 
from  the  leaky  pockets  of  neighbouring 
loafers. 

Such,  in  too  many  instances,  is  the  termi- 
nation of  the  career  of  many  young  men 
who  arose  into  life  with  the  most  flattering 
prospects.  Had  they  avoided  the  evil 
against  which  1  am  now  warning  you,  they 
would  have  lived  in  comfort  and  respecta- 
bility— perhaps  in  wealth  and  honour.  But 


176  THE    RESULT. 

they  are  gone  beyond  the  reach  of  hope  and 
recovery.  Let  their  sad  fate  be  a  caution 
to  such  as  are  yet  unentangled  by  the  net 
which  has  first  bound  and  then  led  them  to 
ruin. 


USEFULNESS.  177 


CHAPTER  V. 

DUTIES    OF    YOUNG    MEN. 

ALL  that  has  been  recommended  in  the 
foregoing  pages,  intellectual  and  moral  cul- 
tivation, character  and  standing,  are  vastly 
important  to  every  young  person,  but  they 
are  only  preparatives  for  usefulness.  To 
gain  these  in  any  good  degree,  is  to  acquire 
a  power,  which,  if  properly  used,  may  be 
extensively  felt,  not  only  among  those  who 
are  our  immediate  associates,  but  by  all 
men  throughout  society.  A  stone  thrown 
into  the  glassy  bosom  of  the  lake,  sends  its 
waving  ripple  to  the  distant  shore.  Creation 
in  its  wide  extent^  now  feels  the  effect  of 
the  little  Sabbath-school,  raised  by  the  toil 
and  piety  of  Robert  Raikes. 

Nothing  is  more  true  than  the  declara- 
tion, "no  man  liveth  to  himself  and  no  man 


178  USEFULNESS. 

dieth  to  himself."  Our  every  act,  has  in- 
fluence somewhere  for  weal  or  wo, — for  the 
happiness  or  misery — now  and  hereafter — 
of  those  who  are  about  us.  Every  man  is 
so  connected  with  the  multitude  that  he  is 
either  doing  them  good,  promoting  their 
peace  or  destroying  it.  The  blessings  which 
your  fathers  have  bequeathed  to  you  their 
children,  are  far  richer  than  empty  titles, 
and  yet  you  would  pity  the  son  who  would 
throw  even  these  away.  How  much  more 
strongly  are  you  bound  to  keep  and  preserve 
the  legacy  left  you  ?  But  you  are  not  only 
to  guard  the  laws  and  liberties  of  your  coun- 
try, and  see  that  they  are  maintained  en- 
tire, you  are  expected  to  look  well  to  its 
morals  too.  Liberty  never  continued  long 
in  any  country  after  its  morality  had  de- 
parted. 

There  are  many  conservative  influences 
now  at  work  in  our  country  the  direct  tend- 
ency of  which  is  to  preserve  the  morals  of 
the  people,  and  thereby  bless  the  land  in 
which  we  live.  The  public  preaching  of 
the  gospel  and  means  of  grace  are  of  this 


EFFORTS  NOW  BEING   MADE.  179 

character.  Were  the  churches  blotted  out 
of  existence  and  erased  from  the  map  of 
our  country,  preaching  suspended,  and  all 
public  prayer  to  cease,  in  vain  would  the 
magistrate  hold  his  seat  and  endeavour  to 
preserve  order.  Anarchy  would  soon  en- 
sue; anarchy  of  so  fearful  a  character  as  to 
render  life  and  property  unsafe.  Your  duty 
then  is  clear  and  plain  before  you.  No  ar- 
gument can  be  needed  to  convince  you  that 
your  influence  is  fully  and  decidedly  to  be 
cast  on  the  side  of  religion  and  virtue. 
Stand  by  the  public  means  of  grace  as  one 
of  the  main  bulwarks  of  your  country's 
freedom,  nor  ought  you  to  be  willing  to 
hear  religion  reviled. 

This, however, is  not  enough;  you  should 
be  active  in  its  promotion.  It  is  the  opinion 
of  most  of  the  wise  and  good  that  we  live 
on  the  eve  of  an  important  arid  most  event- 
ful period.  The  world's  population  is  be- 
coming consolidated.  The  nations  which 
were  once  farthest  apart,  are  now  being 
brought  near  to  each  other  by  the  improve- 
ments of  modern  times.  Efforts  for  the 


180  MODERN    IMPROVEMENTS. 

evangelization  of  the  world  are  now  made 
with  an  energy  hitherto  unknown.  The 
bible  is  to  be  published  to  every  nation  un- 
der heaven,  and  missions  are  to  be  estab- 
lished on  every  heathen  shore,  so  that  "  all 
may  know  the  Lord  from  the  least  to  the 
greatest."  Christian  nations  are  to  do 
this;  none  else  can.  The  Divine  Being  and 
all  good  men  are  deeply  interested  in  this 
great  work,  nor  can  the  smiles  of  God  be 
expected  to  rest  upon  neutrals ;  every  man 
is  called  upon  to  aid  in  this  business,  to  ex- 
ert his  influence  be  it  great  or  small,  and 
contribute  of  his  substance  in  its  promo- 
tion. 

Churches  are  to  be  erected  to  accommo- 
date our  home  population  with  places  in 
which  they  can  hear  the  word  of  God.  Sab- 
bath Schools  are  to  be  kept  up,  and  all  the 
children  in  the  lanes  and  streets  of  cities,  as 
well  as  in  the  sparse  country,  are  to  be 
brought  under  their  beneficial  influence. 
Who  is  to  do  all  this?  The  very  ones  whom 
I  am  now  addressing.  The  young  men  of 
our  land  are  bound  to  be  foremost  in  these 


SABBATH    SCHOOLS.  181 

great  works  of  mercy  and  reform.  They 
owe  it  to  those  who  have  gone  before,  and 
to  the  generation  that  shall  come  after  them ; 
they  owe  it  to  God  and  themselves.  All 
excuses  for  idleness  are  inadmissable  in  this 
stirring  and  active  age.  The  time  was 
when  these  mighty  interests  could  be  ne- 
glected with  comparative  impunity,  but 
thank  Heaven,  that  time  is  passed  by  never 
to  return. 

The  teacher  in  a  Sabbath  School  is  in  a 
process  of  education,  which  will  soon  create 
for  him  distinction.  His  moral  and  intel- 
lectual powers  are  both  being  trained  for 
future  activity  and  greatness,  and  his  store 
of  knowledge  is  continually  receiving  new 
acquisitions.  Sabbath  School  libraries  are 
daily  increasing  by  the  addition  of  new 
works  on  all  subjects  within  the  range  of 
human  knowledge  and  research,  to  all  of 
which  he  has  a  ready  access.  This  is  no 
trifling  circumstance  to  such  as  have  not  the 
advantage  of  a  library  of  their  own,  and 
whose  chief  complaint  is  want  of  access  to 
the  right  kind  of  books.  To  all  such  I 
16 


182  SABBATH    SCHOOLS. 

would  say,  become  teachers  of  Sabbath 
Schools  at  once,  and  your  wants  in  this  re- 
spect are  met. 

Every  man  whom  God  hath  made,  has 
his  place  and  his  allotted  work  in  His  crea- 
tion. Those  who  have  the  least  talent,  and 
by  circumstances  seem  to  command  the 
least  influence,  are  sometimes  made  instru- 
ments of  the  greatest  amount  of  good  to 
their  fellows.  No  one  knows  what  he  can 
do,  or  what  God  has  intended  him  to  do, 
until  he  has  tried.  Each  one  should  be 
actuated  by  the  desire  to  leave  the  world  a 
little  better,  for  his  having  lived  in  it.  A 
worldly  and  wealthy  man  once  took  pains 
to  show  a  friend  of  mine  his  well  cultivated 
and  highly  improved  lands.  My  friend 
afterward  took  occasion  to  enquire,  what 
object  he  proposed  to  himself  in  all  his 
labors  and  cares?  Said  he,  "you  have 
property  enough  to  ensure  your  own  com- 
fort while  you  are  here,  without  further 
effort."  What  think  you  was  his  reply  ? 
Let  every  young  man,  and  especially  every 
Christian  hear  it.  "  I  wish  to  leave  the 


v    TEMPERANCE.  183 

world  a  little  better  for  my  having  lived  in 
it."  What  a  motive  for  a  man  confessedly 
without  the  fear  of  God.  Did  every  man 
feel  the  action  of  such  an  impulse  what  a 
world  would  this  soon  be  !  This  land 
would  be  the  garden  of  the  Lord,  and  every 
heathen  shore  would  soon  be  visited  by 
missionary  feet — the  precious  Bible  be  in 
every  man's  hand,  and  the  song  of  salvation 
go  up  from  every  tongue. 

Where  much  is  given,  much  is  required. 
There  is  no  question  but  many  are  short- 
lived because  they  are  useless.  God  re- 
moves them  to  make  a  place  for  others  who 
will  be  more  useful.  And  why  should  he 
not  ?  Had  you  hired  servants  you  would 
do  the  same.  Why  allow  a  man  to  occupy 
a  place  which  he  is  too  lazy  to  fill  with 
honour  to  himself  or  usefulness  to  his  fel- 
lows? You  must,  therefore,  work  or  be 
displaced  by  Him  who  put  you  where  you 
are.  Necessity  is  laid  upon  you,  and  wo 
to  you,  if  you  work  not. 

There  is  another  field  of  usefulness,  re- 
cently opened  to  the  enterprising,  in  the 


184  TEMPERANCE. 

temperance  reformation.  This  next  to  re- 
ligion, is  the  most  potent  and  godlike  in  its 
energies  for  good  to  mankind,  of  any  other 
enterprize.  It  is  yours,  it  is  mine,  it  is  the 
duty  of  all  men  to  co-operate  in  this  mighty 
system  of  usefulness.  The  presumption  is, 
that  you  are  temperate  in  the  strictest  mean- 
ing of  the  term.  If  this  be  not  the  case,  all 
the  foregoing  suggestions  and  recommenda- 
tions are  worthless  to  you, — however  much 
they  may  benefit  others,  in  your  case,  they 
are  utterly  lost.  Intoxicating  liquor  in  any 
of  its  forms  is  dangerous  to  every  man,  but 
more  especially  to  young  persons.  If  you 
taste  it,  as  a  drink,  in  any  way,  you  are 
unsafe,  as  the  man  whose  boat  is  within  the 
draught  of  the  falls  of  Niagara,  and  your 
whole  energy  should  be  exerted,  until  you 
have  reached  a  place  of  safety.  Where  the 
mighty  have  fallen,  the  feeble  should  feel 
the  danger.  Mr.  Todd,  says,  in  relation  to 
another  matter,  "  when  you  see  the  tail  of 
a  fox  projecting  from  the  hole,  you  may  be 
sure  the  fox  is  there,"  and  when  you  see  a 
man  tasting  liquor,  you  may  be  sure  he  will 


TEMPERANCE.  185 

be  a  drunkard  if  he  does  not  cease   such 
practices  soon. 

Being  free  yourself  from  the  destructive 
wiles  of  so  merciless  a  destroyer,  it  is  your 
duty  and  interest  to  aid  in  freeing  others. 
What  would  be  thought  of  the  man,  who 
because  he  was  safe  himself,  he  was  there- 
fore to  refuse  to  assist  in  saving  a  drowning 
man?  He  would  be  justly  called  a  mur- 
derer. And  I  wish  you  to  bear  it  in  mind, 
that  you  will  do  yourself  a  vast,  and  incal- 
culable injury,  if  through  pride,  fear  of 
reproach,  or  desire  of  popularity  among  the 
vulgar,  you  avoid  bringing  to  bear  upon  the 
temperance  reformation,  the  whole  weight 
of  your  influence.  The  very  fact  that  you 
stand  neutral,  while  the  two  parties  are 
contending  in  the  heat  of  battle  ;  is  in  reality 
and  will  be  esteemed,  a  most  suspicious 
circumstance.  "  He  who  is  not  for  us,  is 
against  us."  The  lines  are  now  so  drawn, 
the  parties  so  divided,  that  all  who  are  not 
for  the  cause  of  temperance,  are  deemed  its 
enemies,  declarations  to  the  contrary,  not- 
withstanding. This  is  a  wordy  age,  and 
16* 


186  TEMPERANCE. 

many  a  man  has  declared  himself  the  friend 
of  temperance,  who  was  its  veriest  enemy 
at  the  same  time.  To  question  the  policy, 
and  frown  on  the  well  meant  efforts  of 
temperance  men,  who  are  forward  and 
active  in  the  cause,  by  saying  "  they  go  too 
far"  is  the  known  habit,  the  only  argument 
of  moderate  drinkers,  and  wine-bibbers," 
who  have  quite  substantial  reasons  for  not 
approving  our  measures. 

I  wish  to  apprize  you  of  the  fact  that  you 
cannot  trifle  with  this  matter  and  be  guilt- 
less. It  is  trifling  with  misery  in  its  most 
degrading  and  appaling  forms,  and  playing 
with  death,  as  children  play  with  marbles. 
If  you  were  to  see  a  man  set  up  business, 
and  open  a  shop  in  the  heart  of  a  dense 
population,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  poisoning 
community  by  administering  arsenic  to  all 
whom  he  could  entice  into  his  den,  would 
you  not  feel  bound  as  a  good  citizen,  to  try 
to  break  him  up  ?  If  public  meetings  were 
called  to  express  the  indignation  of  the  peo- 
ple, at  his  course,  would  you  not  make  one 
of  the  number  ?  I  know  you  would.  Nor 


TEMPERANCE.  187 

will  you  long  be  called  a  good  citizen  unless 
you  do  the  same  in  relation  to  liquor  sellers. 
Their  purpose  is  not  to  destroy  men  it  is 
true,  but  they  do  it  notwithstanding,  and 
you  know  it,  and  are  therefore  bound  by 
every  argument  and  reason,  that  can  influ- 
ence an  honest  man,  to  oppose  them  in  their 
work  of  death. 

By  taking  a  decided  stand,  in  the  front 
rank  of  the  temperance  army  and  exerting 
yourselves  like  men,  you  may  win  laurels 
of  renown  and  wear  them  during  life.  In 
fact  1  know  of  no  path  to  usefulness  and 
popularity  so  easy  and  short  as  this.  Here 
you  can  accustom  yourselves  to  useful 
labors,  to  public  speaking,  and  the  manage- 
ment of  influence  at  an  early  day.  And 
can  you  deny  yourselves  the  honorable 
reputation  to  be  acquired  in  such  a  work  of 
mercy  ? 

The  world  has  a  great  claim  on  you,  be- 
cause of  the  important  relation  you  bear  to 
society.  Useful  or  injurious  to  others,  you 
must  be.  Your  fathers  of  a  former  genera- 
tion are  many  of  them  yet  living,  and  fixing 


188  RESPONSIBILITIES. 

their  eyes  upon  you,  wondering  what  course 
you  will  take.  To  their  tottering  age,  you 
will  be  expected  to  lend  the  hand  of  kind 
assistance,  to  close  their  eyes  in  death,  and 
quietly  lay  them  in  the  grave.  Behind  you 
and  treading  fast  in  your  footseps  are  the 
members  of  another  generation,  whose 
habits,  modes  of  life,  and  thought,  you  will 
mightily  influence  either  for  good  or  for 
evil.  A  vast  burden  of  responsibility  is 
thus  laid  upon  your  shoulders  without  your 
consent,  nor  can  you  easily,  or  innocently 
shake  it  off.  Circumstances  now  existing 
place  you  far  in  the  advance  of  those  who 
have  gone  before,  and  therefore,  more  is 
expected  from  you, — wide  is  the  field  for 
the  display  of  your  active  powers,  and  vast 
are  the  interests  staked,  and  pending  on 
your  decision. 

Practical  benevolence,  is  in  this  day  a 
great  and  ennobling  virtue.  Selfish  parsi- 
mony as  it  ought  to  be,  has  always  been 
despised  by  the  worthy  and  enlightened,  in 
every  community.  « There  is  that  with- 
holdeth  and  tendeth  to  poverty/'  has  been 


RESPONSIBILITIES.  189 

a  frequent  matter  of  sad  experiment.  Men 
can  do  good  with  their  money  as  well  as 
anything  else  that  they  have,  nor  should  we 
ever  deny  ourselves  the  privilege,  when 
opportunity  offers.  I  once  knew  a  me- 
chanic to  be  driven  out  of  a  large  town,  by 
want  of  employment,  because  he  refused 
to  cast  a  penny  in  the  basket  at  church. 
Those  who  would  have  employed  him,  on 
seeing  his  disposition  to  withhold  aid  from 
others,  refused  him  theirs,  and  turned  their 
work  into  other  hands.  He  who  wishes  to 
live  among  men,  must  show  himself  a  man, 
or  he  need  not  hope  for  success. 

In  conclusion,  suffer  me  to  enquire  if  you 
can  see  no  reason  why  you  should  attempt 
all  this  ?  Does  not  the  pleasure  of  an  honor- 
able reputation  for  doing  good,  to  yourself 
first,  and  then  to  the  bodies  and  souls  of 
other  men,  hold  out  an  invitation  so  strong 
as  to  be  difficult  to  resist  ?  Irreligion,  in- 
temperance, and  sin  of  all  kinds,  have 
united  their  energies  to  ruin  and  devastate 
our  earth, — it  is  for  you,  by  the  grace  of 
God  to  oppose  and  overcome  these  deadly 


190  RESPONSIBILITIES, 

foes  to  human  peace  and  prosperity.  It  is 
not  enough  that  you  praise  those  now  en- 
gaged in  laudable  efforts  to  benefit  their 
race,  much  more  than  this  is  expected  at 
your  hands.  You  are  to  take  hold  your- 
selves, and  be  forward  in  promoting  every 
good  work.  You  should  covet  the  posts  of 
greatest  responsibility,  and  willingly  do  the 
very  drudgery  of  benevolence — by  so  doing 
you  shall  deserve  well  of  your  generation, 
and  receive  all  your  deserts. 


TJIE  END. 


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